


Unexpected Souvenir

by princessamaterasu



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Mochi, Reader-Insert, Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 36,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessamaterasu/pseuds/princessamaterasu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots about different Hetalia mochi and their encounters with human girls that capture their interest, and perhaps their heart. Mochi!Various x Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Japan Mochi

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hetalia, or the cute mochi :(

Tokyo is the most exciting and lively place you've ever been. Energy radiates from the crowds of people that press against each other in the cool evening air. Lights from the tall buildings that line the streets reflect off of hundreds of faces as you make your way through the city. 

Visiting Japan had been one of the best ideas you've ever had. You pop another konpeitō candy in your mouth as you try to navigate the busy street. The food, especially the candy, is some of the best you've tasted in your entire life. You pop a few more in your mouth before you're jostled by a suit clad businessman.

"Gomen'nasai (sorry)," you tell him with a slight bow. He ignores you and stumbles away, obviously drunk out of his mind. "Some people," you mumble to yourself.

That's when you realize you've been pushed into a dark alleyway. The lights from the street cast eerie shadows on the piles of empty boxes and bags of trash. You bend down to pick up your bag of candy that fell when you were rudely pushed. Several of the candies have spilled out onto the ground, and you sigh in disappointment.

Suddenly, one of the empty boxes moves. You look at it in surprise. It moves again slightly, and a small, round pink object wiggles its way out of the box. You watch as it hops over to the spilled konpeitō and starts eating them. Upon closer inspection, you notice what looks like a miniature katana strapped to its back. What an odd...whatever it is.

"What are you?" you whisper in amazement.

The round thing looks up at you with big black eyes. "Gomen'nasai, Watashi wa eigo ga hanasenai (I am sorry, I do not speak English)."

You stare at the object in shock. Did it just speak to you? You watch it for another moment as it finishes the last of the spilt candy. You had heard the same phrase spoken many times on your trip already, so you rephrase your question. "Anata wa nandesuka (what are you)?"

The little pink thing looks up at you again. "Watashi wa mochi desu (I am a mochi)."

At first you're very confused. What does it mean it's a mochi? You slowly reach out and give it a light poke. It's soft to the touch, just like mochi. You're very familiar with the rice cakes, and you've eaten quite a bit on your trip. A small sakura pattern near the bottom of the mochi draws your eyes. 

"Sakura mochi?" you ask.

"Hai (yes)," the pink mochi answers.

"Anata wa, namae ga arimasu ka (do you have a name)?" you struggle to say in Japanese. You've taken classes for a few years, but it's not an easy language to grasp.

"Hai, Nihon Mochi wa watashi no namaedesu (yes, Japan Mochi is my name)," the little mochi answers.

"Nihon Mochi," you repeat. It's an odd name, but a talking mochi is odd too, so it kind of fits. "Anata wa koko de nani o shite iru (what are you doing here)?"

"Watashi wa sute raremashita (I was thrown away)," the pink mochi tells you sadly.

"Naze (why)?" you ask surprised. Who could throw away something so cute?

Japan Mochi looks down sadly. "Watashiniha wakaranai (I do not know)."

You look at the sad little mochi with sympathy. It's not fair for it to be left alone. You pull out another candy from your bag, and offer it to the pink mochi. "Anata wa watashitoisshoni kitai (would you like to come with me)?"

Japan Mochi looks up at you hopefully. "H-hontōni (really)?" You nod your head and smile. "Ah! Dōmo arigatōgozaimashita (thank you very much)."

"Dōitashimashite (you're welcome)," you say as you pick the happy little mochi up, katana and all. You give it a soft kiss right above the eyes. It's so cute that you couldn't help yourself. Japan Mochi turns an even darker shade of pink. "Now to get you back to the hotel," you say to yourself as you exit the alley, blushing mochi in arms.

"Ta-da!" you say as you open your room door. You flip the light switch while balancing Japan Mochi in your other arm. The light reveals a small room with simple, but tasteful, furniture. You walk over to the bed and drop your purse on it. Then you pull an armchair in from of the tv and set the pink mochi down on it. "Koko de ma~tsu tete kudasai (please wait here)."

You turn the tv on to any random channel, and head to the shower. The hot water is relaxing on your sore muscles. You have plenty of time to think about this whole mochi business while you soak in the water. Japan Mochi is definitely a boy, you decide. From what you can tell, his voice sounds masculine, so you think it's better than calling him an it. You still have no idea what he really is, but it doesn't really matter. He's adorable, and you're going to take him home with you, if he agrees.

"Daijōbudesuka (are you alright)?" you ask the mochi as you walk out of the steamy bathroom. You've changed into your pajamas, and you're rubbing the water out of your hair with a towel. You walk to the armchair when Japan Mochi doesn't respond.

He's staring transfixed at the television. He finally notices your presence. "Ah, hai. I'm just fine, thank you."

You stare at him in shock. "D-did you just speak English?" you ask in disbelief. "I thought you said you couldn't!"

"Oh yes, I am very sorry about that," he says apologetically. "I could not speak it before, but I learned."

"Learned," you repeat. You finally notice what's on tv. It's some American horror movie with Japanese subtitles. "So that's how you did it." He gives you something like a nod. "You're one smart little guy," you say with a smile.

Japan Mochi turns a dark pink. "Ah, thank you very much."

"Mind if I join you?" You don't wait for an answer. Instead you pick him up and sit down in the armchair. Japan Mochi is very soft, and you quickly snuggle up with him. "My name's (y/n) by the way."

"V-very nice to meet you (y/n). Thank your for your hospitality," he responds with a deep blush. 

The movie is a lot scarier than you thought it was going to be, and you're kind of regretting watching it. On the other hand, nothing seems to faze Japan Mochi. When the killer jumps out of the closet and starts chasing the main character, you flinch and bury your face in the soft mochi. Maybe if you don't watch you'll be able to sleep later.

"A-are you a-alright Miss-s-s (y/n)?" Japan Mochi stutters out, embarrassed by the sudden contact.

"Yeah," you say in a tense voice. "I just don't like scary movies that much."

"We don't have to continue watching if it scares you," he says. His voice is infectiously calm.

"Just keep talking," you tell the pink mochi. "Your voice...it's nice."

This catches Japan Mochi off guard. "E-excuse me?"

"Just keep talking."

"W-what should I t-talk about?" he asks, obviously flustered. He's blushing again.

"Anything," you say and squeeze the soft mochi tighter.

"Ah, well," Japan Mochi begins, "dango is very delicious. You can eat it with bean paste sometimes. And soba is also very good, especially on a hot day. Um, nikujaga is also very tasty, and it goes very well with some hot green tea."

You laugh softly. "You like food a lot, don't you Japan Mochi?"

"Oh, well yes," he answers sheepishly. "I-is that a problem? I can talk about something else if food is not to your liking."

"No, that's alright," you say. You look up long enough to turn the tv off. The last thing you see is the killer holding a bloody knife. "I think it's time for bed."

You get up out of the chair with Japan Mochi still in your arms. You turn off all the lights except for the small lamp on the table next to the bed. The blankets rustle softly as you pull them away and slip underneath them. You settle into the soft bed with a content sigh.

"Comfortable Japan Mochi?"

"Yes, thank you for asking Miss (y/n)."

"You don't have to be so formal all the time," you tell him with a quiet laugh. "Just (y/n) is fine."

"O-oh, I'll do my best Mi...um, (y/n)," he says uncomfortably.

You let out a huge yawn. "Looks like it's time for some shut eye," you mumble. "Goodnight Japan Mochi." You snuggle closer to the soft mochi, and reach out with one hand to turn the lamp off.

"G-goodnight (y/n)," he says softly. You give him another little kiss. He really is the cutest thing you've ever seen.

Japan Mochi listens to your breathing even out until he's sure you're asleep. He wiggles out of your arms and hops up onto your pillow. Your face is softly illuminated by the light filtering in through the window. He watches you sleep with shiny black eyes. What a kind person you must be to take him with you without asking hesitation. 

He moves closer to your face, and takes a moment to work up his courage. Once he feels confident enough, he moves even closer, and places a quick, gentle kiss on your lips. He pulls back just as quickly, and turns a dark shade of red. These feelings are not something he's ever experienced before. He moves back under the blankets, and cuddles up next to you again. 

Japan Mochi sighs contently. He'll be forever grateful for your kindness. He snuggles even closer to you for warmth. He never wants to leave your side, and plans to stay with you for as long as you'll let him. He'll follow you anywhere.


	2. Norway Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason Norway Mochi is so protective of his butter is because around Christmas of 2011 Norway had a butter shortage and began importing butter like crazy. I was asked to incorporate this into Norway Mochi's personality by making him very particular about who can and cannot have his butter XD

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

Your friends may have thought it was a little weird that you decided to go to Norway over the summer, but to you, it's totally been worth it. This last week has been the most fun you've ever had alone, but the sad thing is that you are indeed alone.

No one else really wanted to go with you because no one speaks Norwegian, including you. Turns out that wasn't even a problem for you since almost everyone in Norway speaks English as a second language. Some people even speak it better than several native English speakers you know. You had managed to visit some amazing sites, like the beautiful opera house in Oslo, without getting lost because of the help of some friendly natives.

Oslo is a whole different experience in and of itself. You've spent most of your time in the large city, and enjoy its mixture of historic sites and modern wonders. You can see the amazing skyline, full of hulking skyscrapers, from your multistory hotel building, yet take in the wonderfully constructed stone buildings as you stroll through some of the more historic sections of the city. This place is amazing.

You stroll through a quiet street as you reflect on your trip. It really was worth coming, even though you had to do it alone. That's when you come across a cute little café called Flekket Ku (the spotted cow), and decide you're in the mood for a bite to eat. Small silver bells jingle as you push the door of the café open and step inside. It's a little bit colder inside than out, and you shiver slightly at the temperature difference. It doesn't get really hot in Norway, even though it's the middle of summer, so it's actually quite cool inside.

A warm mug of coffee is starting to sound better to you as you accustom yourself to the cool temperature. You look at the menu behind the counter, but everything's in Norwegian, so you can't figure out what anything is. Words like "latte" and "espresso" are still the same, so you think about maybe getting some random latte and hope for the best.

You step up to the counter when a round, white object catches your attention. It's rather unavoidable actually because it's sitting right in the middle of the counter. You look at the odd object closely, and wonder if it means the café is closed. There isn't anyone else in the café except a tall man with wild blonde hair sitting at a table in the back, so it must be open. You try to move the white object as carefully as you can, but it moves as soon as you touch it.

"Vennligst ikke røre meg (please don't touch me)," the strange object says.

You immediately pull your hands away in surprise. "I-it's talking to me...t-t-this thing...it's talking to me...Oh man, I've really lost it now."

The soft white object turns around and looks at you with dull blue eyes. The sudden appearance of a face on the white thing makes you stop your rambling, and your eyes grow to the size of saucers. All the Norwegian fairytales must have gotten to your head because now you're seeing something straight out of one.

"Vennligst ikke stirre (please don't stare)," the round object says.

"I don't speak Norwegian," you reply automatically. It's something you've had to say a lot this week.

The thing just grunts in response, then turns back around. A small curl that floats off the side of the thing's head bounces as it does so, and you can't help but wonder why it's not actually attached to the white object on the counter. Even with the thing not facing you, you can still see the shiny gold clip attached to the object near its floating curl gleam in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Suddenly someone appears from the back and hurries toward the counter that the round thing is sitting at. The young man starts talking to the thing in Norwegian, and he appears to be apologizing. You watch the two converse with several different questions bouncing around in your mind. Why isn't the waiter as weirded out as you? What are they talking about? And just what is that thing anyway?

The two finish talking as the waiter jots down what must be an order from the round thing, but it couldn't have really ordered something, could it? You're interrupted from your thoughts by the young man as he starts talking to you in Norwegian. You don't get a chance to tell him you don't know what he's saying because the thing on the counter says something to the waiter, who writes something else down and walks away.

"Hey, you there." You jump at the voice coming from the white object. It's looking at you with those blue eyes again. "Take me to that table, please."

Without thinking, you pick the soft thing up and place it on a table not far from the counter. You sit down on the opposite side and look at it curiously.

"Please don't stare," the thing requests.

"I-I'm sorry," you apologize quickly. "I'm just trying to figure out what you are."

The thing across from you looks at the small vase of flowers, plate of butter, cup of sugar, bowl of small plastic cups of cream, and stack of individual servings of packaged jam instead of your eyes as it answers. "I'm a mochi."

"Mochi?" you repeat, trying to make sense of what it said. "Like the rice dumpling?"

It gives you what must be a nod in response.

You think about that for a while before asking another question. "Are you a boy or a girl?"

The white mochi looks away, and doesn't answer for a while. You're about to ask again, thinking it didn't hear you, when it gives you a quiet answer. "Boy."

"Well, now I won't have to refer to you as 'it'," you say with a smile. The quiet mochi glances at you quickly before looking away again. You think it's kind of cute how shy the soft mochi is. "So am I supposed to just call you Mochi?"

The mochi finally makes eye contact with you, and his gaze is surprisingly intense. "Norway Mochi."

"Nice to meet you Norway Mochi!" you say with a smile. It's nice to finally have someone to talk to on your trip. You hadn't realized how lonely you had been, even though you've been having such a good time.

The waiter from before appears with two steaming lattes, one caramel and the other mocha. He places the mocha latte in front of you, and the other in front of the quiet mochi, and adds a straw so the mochi can drink.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" he asks in a heavy accent. He must have heard us speaking English and switched over.

"I'll have a plain scone, if you have any," you request.

"Of course," the young man says with a smile.

"Takk (thanks)," you say as he walks away. You have managed to pick up a little Norwegian during your stay here.

You turn back to your latte, and notice that Norway Mochi has already started drinking his through the straw in his cup. "Did you order this for me?"

Norway Mochi stops drinking and looks down at his latte. "Yes," he replies simply. "You said you didn't speak Norwegian."

"Thank you," you say sweetly. Norway Mochi blushes brightly at your sincere thanks. The mochi is a bigger softie than he lets on. You smile at his adorable blush.

"Excuse me." An obnoxious, heavily accented voice interrupts our conversation. "Mind if I borrow some of your butter? My table's all out." The two of you look up to see the man with messy blonde hair from the back of the café. He's actually really tall, and is wearing a long black coat that must be sweltering, even if it's not that hot out.

You're about to hand him your plate of butter, but Norway Mochi hops in front of it protectively. "No," he says.

"Pleeeeease," the man begs. "Help a guy out." He clasps his hands together in a pleading manor.

"I don't let people take my butter, especially Danes," Norway Mochi responds with narrowed eyes. His voice is still the same even tone as before, but it's impossible to mistake the threat behind it.

"I-I'm sorry for disturbing you two," the tall man says with a bow and flourish of his small black hat. He quickly retreats back to his own table.

"Okay...you really don't like people touching your butter," you say with wide eyes. You get the impression Norway Mochi is not someone you want to mess with.

"No...I don't," he replies.

You take a few sips of your latte, which has cooled down to the perfect temperature. It's delicious, and you laugh softly as you lick chocolatey foam off your upper lip. Norway Mochi glances up at you briefly before going back to his own latte.

"Here's your scone, miss," the waiter says as he places a small plate with a scone atop it on the table. "Anything else?"

The young man's appearance startled you slightly, but you compose yourself to answer. "No, thank you. This will be fine."

The waiter nods once and walks away. You break off a piece of your scone and pop it into my mouth. It's dry, so you pick up the little knife it came with to get some butter. You pause when you remember the little episode from earlier with the Danish man and the butter.

"Um...would it be okay if I...uh, used some butter?" you ask nervously. The last thing you'd want is for Norway Mochi to get mad and tell you to leave. He may not be the most talkative, but you enjoy spending time with someone on your trip. He's also really cute.

Norway Mochi looks up at you, then the butter, and back at you. He turns his blue eyes away from you and blushes bright red. "Yes," he answers.

You let out a relieved sigh and start to butter your scone. It would be a shame to be kicked out by your new friend, at least you think he's your friend, for taking his butter. You take another bite of your scone and sip at your latte.

"So do you come here a lot?" you ask the mochi curiously. He must if the waiter acts like it's normal for a mochi to be ordering coffee.

"Everyday," Norway Mochi replies. "I...like coffee." You notice his cup is empty, and he's eyeing up yours. You slide it over to him and put his straw in it.

"There, you can have mine," you say with a smile.

The quiet mochi looks up at you with surprise. A small, but sweet, smile appears on his face, and his usually dull eyes seem to sparkle. "Thank you very much."

"You really do like your coffee," you say with a laugh, but the mochi is too busy slurping away at the remains of your latte to answer. "You're so cute, you know that?"

Your words cause Norway Mochi to stop drinking. He stares at you with wide eyes before quickly looking away. "...you're...cute as well..." he says quietly as a blush creeps up his face.

"Thanks!" You grin at his shyness. It makes him so much more adorable. "It's been nice talking to you Norway Mochi, but I need to get going now. I'm taking a tour later." You place some money on the table to cover the bill. "Coffee's on me today," you say as you get up from the table. You start to walk away, but at the door, you turn around and call Norway Mochi's name. He turns around and looks at you with hopeful eyes. "My name's (y/n) by the way! Maybe I'll see you around here again!" You exit the small café and walk down the street.

"(Y/n)," Norway Mochi repeats. He likes the way it sounds. The soft mochi turns back to his latte with thoughts of you in his head.

The bells on the door jingle as someone walks into the café. Norway Mochi sighs when he recognizes footsteps that quickly approach his table.

"Norge Mochi, er du klar til å forlate (Norway Mochi, are you ready to leave)?" Norway asks the little mochi that shares his likeness.

Norway Mochi looks at his empty cups and looks at the young man waiting for an answer. "Ja (yes)," he answers.

"Noen betalte (someone paid)?" Norway asks.

"Ja," the mochi answers. The question reminds him of you, and he smiles slightly.

The young man, with the matching gold Nordic Cross and floating curl, picks up the quiet mochi and exits the café. "Du er uvanlig snakkesalig i dag (you are unusually talkative today)," Norway comments as he carries the mochi down the street.

"Jeg møtte en jente (I met a girl)." Thoughts of you cross Norway Mochi's mind again, and a smile tugs at his lips.

Norway makes a noise in acknowledgement, but the soft mochi can tell he's not really interested.

The two continue down the street in silence for a while. "Du kommer tilbake i morgen (you are going back tomorrow)?"

"Ja," Norway Mochi responds. For once in his life he's not looking forward to going to the café for his coffee addiction. He's hoping that you really meant what you said and would be there again. He wouldn't mind having coffee with a pretty girl again.


	3. Germany Mochi

Studying abroad was something you never though you'd get the chance to do, but here you are in the amazing city of Berlin as a student at on of its universities. You love it here, and don't really want to leave when you're done with school, but the only reason your parents agreed to you studying abroad is because you promised you'd come back. It's a decision you regret, but if you hadn't agreed, then you wouldn't be in the largest city in all of Germany.

Berlin is actually a city-state, but those kinds of details aren't important to you right now. You're currently standing in the corner of the women's bathroom at the library trying to figure out what this rectangular white thing sitting there is. You had come out of one of the stalls and washed your hands when this thing attracted your attention. Who leaves something weird stuff like this in a bathroom?

At first you had been afraid it was a bomb or something. Maybe some weird political group is trying to attack your university's library to send some sort of anti-education message. You had created a whole plot in your head about how you'd defuse the bomb just in time and be the hero. Everyone would know you as "the cool girl that saved the library".

That thought was quickly replaced by the idea that saving a library doesn't really make you look cool. After that you didn't know what to think. The thing is just sitting there. It hasn't moved or done anything since you've started staring at it. You give it a quick jab, and yelp when you find out how hard it it. It's like a block of cement. You shake your hand to try to lessen the pain, and as you do so, the weird block makes a grunting sound.

This catches your attention, and you crouch even closer to the white object. You poke it again, lightly for the sake of your finger, and the thing grunts again. Another poke, another grunt. You grin mischievously and begin to tickle the white thing. At first nothing happens, but soon the thing starts to shake. A few more grunts come from the object before it starts laughing uncontrollably. 

"Stoppen! Bitte aufhören! (Stop! Please stop!)"

You jump up in surprise at the sound of a deep male voice. The white thing turns around and glares at you with black eyes. You're frozen in place by how shocked you are to hear the thing talk, and have a face.

"Bitte lassen Sie mich allein, (Please leave me alone)" he says. You decide it has to be a boy with a voice like that.

The two of you stare at each other for a while. Before he can react, you glomp onto the block on the floor. "Du bist so nett! (You are so cute!)" you coo at the white thing.

He freezes at your sudden touch, and begins to blush bright red. He mumbles something you don't quite catch the first time. You relax your hold on the ridged block and look at him quizzically.

"Was hast du gesagt? (What did you say?)"

The thing doesn't say anything. He just stares ahead blankly like his brain just got fried. That might actually be the case because he falls forward flat on his face, which causes you to panic, and when you get overly excited you tend to babble in English.

"Ah! He just fell over! What do I do? Maybe I'll pick him up!" You try it, but come to find he's really, really heavy. "Holy crap, he must weigh a ton! Does he eat barbells for breakfast?"

You stop to imagine the white thing balancing a solid steel barbell on his flat top and doing some weird exercise with it. Then he puts it down and takes a big bite out of it. You giggle slightly at the image. You would've kept imagining the thing eating more and more barbells, except you remember it's still lying face down on the bathroom floor.

"Ahhhhh! What am I supposed to do? Can he even breathe like that? Oh no! If I don't flip him over soon, he'll suffocate! Don't worry! I'll figure something out!"

You look around the bathroom, frantically searching for something to use. You spot an umbrella someone must have forgotten when they came in earlier. This gives you and idea for a simple machine that could flip the heavy block back up. You find an unused roll of toilet paper and set it on the floor by the thing. Then you wedge the umbrella underneath him and set it on the toilet paper.

"Thank goodness for physics classes," you say as you look at the makeshift lever you just made. "I hope this works!"

You step down on the umbrella with all of your weight, and it flips the thing back up.

"Yay! It worked! Hahaha I'm a genius!"

You toss the umbrella and toilet paper aside and approach the white object. He's still not moving, so you give him a few pokes. That seems to snap him out of his stupor, and he moves away from you in surprise.

"Oh good! You're okay!" you say happily. "I was worried you would die since you were flat on your face, but you seem fine now. What are you anyway? Could you even die from not breathing? Wait, are you even alive?" The words seem to pour out if your mouth endlessly.

The thing seems to lose his patience with you. "Aufhören zu sprechen! Du bist so schlimm wie Italien! (Stop talking! You're as bad as Italy!)" he roars.

You immediately shut your mouth and scratch the back of your head in embarrassment. "Hehehe. Es tut mir Leid. Wer ist Italien? (I'm sorry. Who is Italy?)"

"Jemand, den ich kenne. (Someone I know)" he says with an exasperated sigh. "Ich bin ein mochi. (I am a mochi)" he adds.

This sparks all sorts of questions in your mind. "A mochi? What's that? Why are you so hard and stuff? Do you even have a name?"

"Enough!" the mochi shouts. "Why can you not be quiet for three seconds?"

"You speak English?" you ask with a big grin. "That's crazy!"

"Let me answer your questions one at a time," the mochi says in a terse voice. "A mochi is...well...that's difficult to explain. I'm hard because that's how I am. And my name is Germany Mochi."

You're not sure whether to be satisfied with his first two answers or not, but you're excited to know his name. "Nice to meet ya, Germany Mochi! My name's (y/n)! How'd you get here anyway?"

Germany Mochi looks around before looking back at you. "Where am I?"

"The girl's bathroom at the library."

The mochi turns several shades of red, each darker than the last. He starts steaming in anger and embarrassment as he processes the information. "Preußen..." He growls under his breath. 

You understand what he says, but it has no meaning for you. "Prussia? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Open the door," Germany Mochi demands. You quickly do what he says, and he slides out of the bathroom. "Preußeeeeeeen!"

A white haired young man you've seen around campus before is standing next to the bathroom door laughing uncontrollably. Tears are streaming down his face as he clutches his sides. "Deutsch Mochi! Kesesesesesese! Du endlich aufgewacht! (You finally woke up!)"

"Ich werde dich töten! (I'm going to kill you!)" Germany Mochi yells as he goes after the laughing guy.

It's not really a fair chase since the mochi can only go at one speed. The albino easily keeps out of Germany Mochi's reach, and even if the mochi did reach him, what could he do?

"Ich werde deine Zehen zu brechen, Gilbert! (I'm going to break your toes, Gilbert!)"

Well that answers that. Germany Mochi hops every time he gets close to Gilbert's feet, and comes back down with a loud thump. You wouldn't be surprised if Gilbert would be crippled for life if the mochi ever succeeds. A small giggle escapes your lips as you picture the albino hobbling around campus with two broken feet and an angry Germany Mochi following him. Your imagined Gilbert laughs as the mochi has to carry all of his books around. You begin to laugh too, and the two real characters from your imagination stop goofing off to look at you.

"Wer ist das? (Who is that?)" Gilbert asks the still angry mochi.

"(Y/n)," Germany Mochi answers.

"Sie ist irgendwie nett. (She's kind of cute)" the albino says suggestively.

Germany Mochi lands on Gilbert's foot. "Verhalten sich. (Behave yourself)"

"Aaaaach! Deutsch Mochi! Das war nicht genial! (That was not awesome!)"

You've been watching the two of them argue and start laughing all over again. "Hahahaha! You guys are too funny! Hahaha!"

"I'm happy you like it," Gilbert says with a smirk.

"Your English is awful," Germany Mochi tells him bluntly.

"You're so like West!" Gilbert shouts. "Always telling me I'm no good about things! I am awesome about English!"

"Hmmm," the mochi grunts. "You're not good at half the things you say you are. That's why you cannot find a girlfriend."

"S-shut up!" Gilbert yells. "I can has girlfriend if I want!"

You do your best to stifle your laughter, but it gets harder by the minute. Gilbert's English is just plain awful, and his accent doesn't help either. The two continue to argue in English for a while, but they're interrupted by a lady coming around the corner.

"Sie müssen ruhig sein! Dies ist eine Bibliothek! (You must be quiet! This is a library!)" she says sternly. Her eyes widen when she recognizes Gilbert. "Du! Du bist der einer Zeichnung in Schulbüchern! (You! You're the one drawing in textbooks!)"

Gilbert looks around in a panic, but there's nowhere to go. Germany Mochi's weight on his foot keeps him from going anywhere. The mochi only hops off so the librarian can drag Gilbert away by his ear, scolding him the whole time.

"Wow, he's quite a character isn't he?" you ask Germany Mochi, who only grunts in reply. "Wanna go do something?"

"What do you have in mind?" he inquires.

"Oh, just some innocent pranks on our lovely friend Gilbert," you say with a smile. A truly mischievous smile.

Germany Mochi cracks a smile for the first time since you've met him. "I don't usually like those kinds of things, but I think I would be up for that."

"Great," you say as the two of you begin walking for the library's exit. "Or maybe I should say awesome!" You give the mochi a wink. He blushes again, and the two of you walk away planning a wonderful surprise for Gilbert. Something involving French male strippers.


	4. Iceland Mochi

You have always been captivated by nature and it's abounding beauty, so naturally you've pursued a career as a nature photographer. That line of work has taken you to some amazing natural wonders, but you have to admit that Iceland has been one of your favorites so far. Despite its name, Iceland isn't the frozen tundra everyone thinks it is. You can't deny that it is rather chilly, but it's not the worst you've ever experienced.

You shiver when you think about the time you trekked around northern Canada looking for polar bears. This time out your target is a lot smaller and easier to find than the lumbering northern bears. You're staying in Iceland's capital, Reykjavík, to take pictures of the unique puffins that flock all over the island country. You love how cute yet goofy looking the birds are.

The sea breeze makes your long coat flap as you stand on a quiet wharf, and you pull your scarf around your neck a little tighter. The adorable little birds you've come to photograph are cheerfully flying around the dock in search of fish. You hold your professional camera up to your eye and snap a few pictures of the carefree birds. It may be cold out, but having the opportunity to see these wonderful creatures in action is worth the chill. 

You take several more pictures of the silly little birds, and the next half hour goes by in the blink of an eye. At one point you zoom in on some birds hopping along one of the docks when something odd catches your eye. You look up from your camera, but it's too far away to really tell what it is. You put the camera back up to your eye and focus on the mysterious object. It's round and white, and appears to be wearing a white bow.

You pull the camera away in surprise when the white object turns and looks at you with purple eyes. What in the world is that? You put the strap of the camera around your neck and begin to walk toward the pier the thing is on. The puffins fly away in a blur of black, white, and orange as you approach them. This leaves just the strange object sitting alone on the dock.

It looks up at you with big purple eyes, and you stare back into its deep gaze. "Þú hræða fugla. (You scared the birds)" it says.

"You talk!" you gasp in surprise. "My goodness! What are you? I've never seen anything like you before."

"Oh...erm..." the thing averts its eyes from you. "I am a mochi. Iceland Mochi to be exact."

"Oh wow, you speak English too!" you say excitedly. This fact shouldn't really excite you since most natives in Iceland speak English very well. "Are you an animal of some kind?"

"Well...no. It is...difficult to explain."

You notice his discomfort, at least you assume it's a him from his voice, and quickly change the subject. "It's very nice to meet you Iceland Mochi. My name is (y/n), and I'm a nature photographer."

The mochi perks up when he hears this. "Really? Have you taken a lot of pictures here?"

"Yes," you tell him with a nod of your head. "There are so many natural wonders here. Here, let me show you."

You pick up your camera and start flipping through the pictures you've already taken. There are some of hot springs and geothermal pools. Others are of flower filled valleys rimmed with snowcapped mountains. You show Iceland Mochi some of the pictures of rainbows and the aurora borealis you had been lucky enough to see. 

"Here's a herd of Icelandic horses I saw the other day. Here's a cute little fox I saw hopping through a patch of snow. And these! These are my favorites!" you say excitedly as you show the mochi pictures of puffins. "I've seen all kinds of animals from around the world, but the puffin is my very favorite." You smile at your photos fondly.

"You really like puffins that much?" Iceland Mochi asks with wide eyes. "Really, truly?"

"Yes! They're absolutely adorable!" you exclaim. "Kind of like you."

The mochi blushes bright red. "Uh...er...well, yes. They are," he stutters. "They're my friends."

You look around at the little birds sitting on the masts of boats and realize what you've done. "Oh no, I've scared them away, haven't I?"

"B-but that's okay!" Iceland Mochi says quickly. "I like talking to you. You say interesting things, unlike some of the stupid Danes that come here. Once, this tall guy with spiky blonde hair showed up and started chasing the birds around. He wouldn't leave until I got Emil to come kick his butt." He stops speaking suddenly. "I'm sorry. I got a little carried away."

You let out a little laugh as you shake your head. "That's perfectly okay. I like talking with you too." You hold your camera up and smile. "Can I take some pictures of you? Would you be okay with that?"

The mochi looks away shyly. "Oh...um...I don't know. I've never had my picture taken before."

"It's easy!" you tell him excitedly. "Just act natural and I'll do the rest!"

"Er...well..." 

You don't wait for his answer. Instead you stand up and take a few steps back. "Don't worry, Iceland Mochi. Just be yourself!" You hold your camera up to your eye and focus it on the mochi.

He looks around nervously as you snap a few photos of him. Then a single, brave little puffin lands on the pier next to Iceland Mochi. This causes him to relax a little as the bird hops around him happily. Several more puffins fly down to join the first, and Iceland mochi begins to smile. He laughs when the silly birds start tripping over each other to get his attention.

You watch in fascination as you take picture after picture. The camera gives a little beep, and you realize you've filled a memory card almost entirely with pictures of Iceland Mochi and the puffins. You don't have any spare cards on you, so you turn your camera off, and sit to watch the mochi play with the birds. More have flown down to join in the excitement, and a few of them hop toward you curiously.

"Hold out your hand," Iceland Mochi says softly so he won't scare the birds.

You do as he says, and the puffins cautiously approach your outstretched hand. A brave one hops right onto your hand before changing its mind and hoping back off. Unfortunately, it doesn't hop backward as gracefully as it hopped forward, and it stumbles on top of some of the other birds gathered nearby.

A happy laugh escapes your lips as you watch the silly bird's antics. The other puffins follow the first's example and begin to hop onto your hand. One even flies up onto your head. You've never been able to get this close to the wildlife you admire, so this is quite the opportunity for you.

"This is wonderful," you say blissfully as a puffin lands on your shoulder. It nuzzles your cheek, and you stroke it with affectionately with a finger. "Thank you, Iceland Mochi."

"Oh...uh...you're very welcome," he replies. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Can I come here again tomorrow?" you ask the mochi hopefully. "I'd love to see these silly birds again, and talk with you some more. I can bring more pictures too."

"I would like that," Iceland Mochi says with a smile. "I'd like that a lot."

"Then it's a date," you say with a smile.


	5. Prussia Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really different from what I've been doing with my other mochi stories. It takes place in Germany, so even though almost everything is in English, everyone would actually be speaking in German. I hope you all enjoy this one even though it's a little different. Prussia has a special place in my heart, so I tried to write a special story ^J^

_ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo_

_5 November 1989_

_Today I met the most peculiar person. Well, I wouldn't say person, he's...odd. I think he called himself a mochi. I don't know what that is, but I didn't get to ask a whole lot of questions. He seemed fixated on the wall, the Berliner Mauer, for whatever reason. I thought maybe he wanted to be alone, so I went to Oma's house. She was very happy to see me. She says things are going to change around here. I don't know what she means, but Mutti says Oma usually knows what's going on. I hope whatever the change is that it'll be for the better. Things aren't as bad here in like they were right after the war, but some good change will make life a little better in the DDR._

_Yours, (y/n)_

_6 November 1989_

_I learned the little mochi's name today! He says his name is Prussia Mochi. It's kind of weird because Prussia doesn't exist anymore, but I didn't mention that to him. It would've been rude. I wouldn't want to be mean to my new friend. At least, I think he's my friend. I saw him by the wall again today, and I stopped to say hello. He seems so lonely sitting there by himself. I could see it in his red eyes. Yes, his eyes are red. It's odd, I know, but his very existence is rather odd, so I don't question it. I wonder if I'll see him there again tomorrow. I hope so. He's very fun to talk to._

_Yours, (y/n)_

_7 November 1989_

_I went to see Prussia Mochi again today. Mutti asked me where I run off to all the time, but I didn't tell her I was going to see him. I don't think she'd believe me if I did. Prussia Mochi can be very funny sometimes, but also very sad. He likes the word 'awesome', and I made fun of him for it. He said that makes me 'unawesome'. We laughed about that a lot. He would sometimes stopped laughing and became very serious. I asked him about it, but he wouldn't tell me. I wonder what could be bothering him so much. Oma always says people only hide shameful things or very painful things. I can't tell with Prussia Mochi. He hides it behind his smile, but I'll figure it out, somehow._

_Yours, (y/n)_

_8 November 1989_

_I've heard of a lot of families that were torn apart by the way our country has been split, but I've never seen it until now. Poor, poor Prussia Mochi. His Bruder is inside the wall, and he hasn't been able to see him since the wall went up in the 60's. Today he told me that he goes to the wall everyday in hopes that it would be the day it comes down. Oma remembers what Berlin was like before the wall. She says it was a wonderful place, and the pride of our country. I wish with all my heart, for Prussia Mochi's sake, that horrible wall comes crashing down. I'm going to visit the mochi again tomorrow and wait for it to come down too._

_Yours, (y/n)_

You make your way to the massive concrete wall that circles half of your city for the fifth time this week. It's already after 19:00, but you promised Prussia Mochi you'd visit him again today. The white mochi is on the same hill he's been sitting on all week, and you carefully sit down next to him. He glances at you slightly before looking back at the wall.

" _Guten Tag_ ," you say to Prussia Mochi.

" _Guten Tag_ , (y/n)," he responds.

The two of you sit in silence while you stare at the blank white face of the large wall. You can't help but wonder what it looks like from the other side. "Prussia Mochi, what do you think the other side of the wall looks like?"

"I don't know," he says. "Don't ask me weird questions like that. It's unawesome."

You roll your eyes. "Yes, because I'm the most unawesome person you've ever met."

"Ehhh, I wouldn't say that," he says as he faces you with a grin. "I'm just more awesome. Kesesesese!"

You laugh along with the mochi and shake your head. He loves reminding you how awesome he is compared to you. "Well at least I can do this!" You pick up the soft mochi and begin throwing him in the air.

"H-heeeeeyyy!" Prussia Mochi yells. "What do you think you're doing? Put me down!"

"Not until you admit I'm awesome!" you reply.

" _Nein_!"

"Then you don't get to come down!" You laugh at the frightened expression on the red eyed mochi's face.

"Fine, fine! You're awesome!" he shouts as he comes falling back into your waiting arms.

"Now, that wasn't so hard," you say with a smirk. Prussia Mochi just scowls.

You're about to put him back on the soft grass when a man runs past you shouting. "The wall is open! The wall is open!"

Your eyes go wide. "Open? Did he say it's open?"

People begin to come out of the nearby buildings, and the cry is taken up by many of them. "The wall is open! They've opened the wall!"

They move closer and closer to the hill you and Prussia Mochi are standing on in an attempt to cross the buffer zone between the city and the wall. You walk with them, unsure of what's really going on. Is the wall really open after all these years?

Shouting can be heard from the other side of the wall once you and the crowd reach the concrete structure. West Berliners must be flocking to the wall as well. You watch as people boost each other up and over the top of the wall while yelling in excitement. Many women are crying and clutching each other in joy. The fervor of the crowd is growing into a frenzy, and you're pushed and shoved so others can get closer to the wall. One man pushes past you just to spit on the wall and walk away.

"I need to get up there," Prussia Mochi says.

"What?" You had almost forgotten you're holding him in the chaos. "That's crazy!"

"I have to see my  _Bruder_!" he insists. His eyes hold a determination you've never seen before. "Please, (y/n)."

"Okay," you say as you bite your lip. "Then I'm coming too."

Suddenly, a man lands on the ground next to you. The West Berliners are also jumping over the wall it would seem. "Our city is united again!" the man says to you with shining eyes. "You must go see!" Without warning, he bends down and picks you up by the knees. He boosts you up, and another man helps you climb up to the top of the wall with Prussia Mochi still in your arms.

"Look at that," you say in awe. "This is what the rest of the city looks like."

"We don't have time to sit around!" Prussia Mochi says as he wiggles around impatiently. "I have to find my  _Bruder_!"

You carefully hop down from the wall and turn around curiously. Unlike the east side, the west side of the wall is covered in art and graffiti. You only get a small glimpse because the crowd jostles you away. There are as many people pressed up against this side of the wall as there are on the other, and they help the East Berliners like you climb down safely.

People move out of your way as you try to walk away from the dreadful wall. "Where do we look?"

"I don't know!" Prussia Mochi shouts back. "He has to be around here somewhere. He wouldn't miss this."

The two of you wander around for a while looking for the mochi's brother. The sun has sunk past the horizon, and you shiver slightly at the cold the darkness brings. You stop to catch your breath before continuing your search. Prussia Mochi begins to wiggle in your arms.

"There! Follow that blonde man! It's Ludwig! I know it is!" he shouts excitedly.

You do your best to follow the man the mochi pointed out, but you quickly loose him in the giant crowd. "I don't see him!" you shout over the noise of celebrating people.

"We have to find him! He'll know where  _Bruder_  is!" Prussia Mochi yells desperately.

A flash of silvery white hair suddenly catches your eye. An odd looking man pushes his way through the crowd in the opposite direction of the wall. He turns his head slightly as he scans over people's faces, and for a brief moment you see his red eyes.

You follow him without another thought. Prussia Mochi doesn't ask any questions as you weave your way toward the man who resembles the mochi in your arms. You break through the crowd to find yourself standing in a circle of people. They're watching two men embrace each other happily. One is the white haired man you've been following, and the other is the blonde Prussia Mochi called Ludwig. The circle of people don't really understand the significance of this meeting, but they sense it's something very important.

The mochi hops out of your arms toward the two in the center. " _Bruder! Bruder!_ " He makes his way to a solid looking white block with a stern expression.

" _Bruder?_ " the block says in a deep voice. "Is it really you?"

"It's been too long,  _Bruder_ ," Prussia Mochi says with a big grin. Despite his smile, you can hear trembling in his voice.

The mochi talk excitedly as the two men let go of each other. The circle of people around them slowly disappears as you watch them with a small, sad smile on your face. This is the moment your friend has been waiting for for a long time. He's where he belongs now. You decide it's time to get back before your mother begins to worry about you, and turn to walk away.

"(Y/n)!" Prussia Mochi calls after you. You look back at him as he hops over to you. "You're not leaving yet are you?"

"I have to," you tell him softly. "You've found your brother, and I have to get home."

"You can't leave without me!" the mochi shouts. "That's so unawesome!"

"But what about your  _Bruder_? Aren't you staying here?"

"We can see each other whenever we want now!" Prussia Mochi says with a big smile. "But East Berlin is my home, and you're my friend." He blushes slightly after saying that. "J-just...don't get any weird ideas l-like I think you're actually awesome or anything."

You laugh softly, but the sound is lost in the noise of a celebrating  _Deutschland_. "Don't worry. You'll always be the most awesome in my book."


	6. England Mochi

London is a beautiful city full of rich history and modern wonders all in the same place. You just can't get enough of it. You've visited Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, the British Museum, the London Eye, the London Underground, and St. Paul's Cathedral. You'd spent plenty of time geeking out over everything, and plenty of money on souvenirs as well. 

You're currently walking around a busy neighborhood full of many shops and cute stores. A shiny trinket in a window display catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. It takes all your willpower to not go into the shop and purchase it, but you've already spent so much money. The proof can be seen in the many bags already hanging from your arms.

You walk a few more blocks, and the fatigue from carrying so much is really starting to get to you. A café comes into your view as you turn a corner, and you gladly sit down at an empty table. Or at least you thought it was empty.

"Hey, you bloody git! You can't just sit at someone else's table without asking!"

You jump up in surprise. "Waaagggh!" You see a round white object on the table you had just sat down at. It has enormous eyebrows and a little black top hat. "Ahh! I'm sorry!"

The object huffs. "Well, at least you have some manners." It takes a sip of tea through a straw that's been placed in its cup before speaking to you again. "Take a seat. Name's England Mochi by the way. Pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss...?"

"(Y/n). My name's (y/n)," you answer as you sit back down.

"Hmm. Yes. It's nice to meet you Miss (y/n)." The thing nods to you slightly. "Now that we're acquainted, it is perfectly acceptable for you to sit at my table."

"Oh, um...yeah." You're not really sure what to do or say in this odd situation.

"You're not from around here, are you Miss?"

"No, I'm not," you admit. "How did you know that?"

The white thing gives you a pointed look. "No one from around here wears that many Union Flags."

You look down at your shoes, socks, and shirt, all of which sport the flag of Great Britain. "Hehehe, I guess you're right," you say in embarrassment. "What about you? What's your story?"

The round object raises a huge eyebrow questioningly.

"Well, I mean, what are you? What're you doing here? What's with your eyebrows? And are you a boy because you sound like one."

One of the aforementioned eyebrows twitches in irritation. "There's nothing wrong with my eyebrows, thank you very much." Its tone indicates this isn't something you should bring up anymore. "I am what is called a mochi, and I'm here to enjoy some tea and people watching." England Mochi gives you a weird look before continuing. "I suppose you could call me a boy. It would be the most accurate."

You don't know how to process that much information. "Oh, uh...okay."

"You're not very bright, are you?" the mochi asks.

"Hehehe, you're pretty observant aren't you?" It's embarrassing, but you're not known for being the brightest bulb.

A waiter finally appears to take your order. You ask for some iced tea with lemon, which he writes down and disappears. England Mochi sips at his tea some more without a word. The two of you watch people walk past the café in silence. It's actually pretty interesting to watch the people hurry past the table.

You point to a random person in the crowd. "Tell me what's up with that guy."

England Mochi looks at the person you're pointing to. He watches the man for a while before voicing his observations. "He's waiting for someone. You can tell by the way he keeps checking his watch. Hehehe. Maybe I should put a curse on him just for fun."

"What?" You didn't hear the last part of what he said.

"Er...nothing," the mochi says quickly. "How about you? What do you think about that woman with the flower print dress?"

"Hmmmmm..." You watch the lady for a while. "Well, she's smiling, so she's probably in love with some amazing guy that's going to sweep her off her feet someday. The two of them will get married and have three kids that they'll name George, Harriet, and Lucy."

"You're just making that up, aren't you?" England Mochi says with an unamused look. You laugh at being caught by the observant mochi.

The waiter suddenly appears with your iced tea, and you gratefully take a sip. It's refreshing, just what you need after your trek around the city. You drain half the glass in two gulps, and sigh in happiness.

"You should take your time and enjoy the flavor of the tea," England Mochi chides. "The stuff you're drinking isn't that good anyway. You have to drink it warm to truly enjoy it."

"Oh, so you're a tea expert now," you say with a roll of your eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me you git!" the mochi exclaims.

"Don't be such a brat," you retort.

"What did you say?"

You laugh at the expression on England Mochi's face. "Hahahaha! You need to lighten up! Your face! Hahahaha! It's all scrunched up!"

His face reddens as he becomes flustered. "Er...don't say stuff like that. It's ungentlemanly."

"Says the one calling me dumb earlier," you say as you wipe a tear from your eye. 

"Well..." the mochi pauses. "I...I'm sorry."

"It's alright," you tell him with a smile. "It's no big deal. Just keep calm and carry on."

England Mochi groans. "You foreigners really need to just forget about that."

"Hehehe, it's what happens when you spend too much time on the internet," you say.

He rolls his eyes. "You remind me of a certain American I know..."

"Who's being a git and rolling their eyes now?" you say with a smirk.

The mochi starts stuttering like crazy. "Well...er...ah...eh......that's not fair!"

"Don't worry. I'm kidding!" you say with a wink. This causes him to blush deeply. You check your watch, and your eyes widen at the time. "Oh shoot! I have to go!" You jump to your feet and grab all your bags. "Maybe I'll see you again, England Mochi! We should hang out again some time!" You call over your shoulder as you walk away.

The mochi sighs as he watches you walk away. "What an odd person." But he can't help but wish that you'll come back. Then he notices the half finished iced tea you left on the table. "THAT BLOODY GIT DIDN'T PAY FOR HER DRINK!" he shouts, which causes people at the tables around him to look at him. Now he has another reason to hope you'll be back.


	7. Canada Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if jalapeño flavored syrup exists, but if it does, it would be in Canada XD

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

Your mom had asked you to bring her home a bottle of authentic Canadian maple syrup, but you didn't realize it would be this difficult when you had accepted the task. It's not that you can't find any. Goodness, you had found enough maple syrup to drown half the population of Ottawa in the golden brown liquid. Your trouble is that there's so many different brands of syrup, and then each brand has it's own varieties, to choose from.

You've always been rather indecisive, and coming to Canada has been one of the only things you were really sure you wanted to do. Staying in its capital city, Ottawa, has been an adventure of its own, but this choice is something else all together. You wonder if, perhaps, you're making a bigger issue out of this than is necessary. Then you imagine bringing your mother the wrong kind of syrup, and how upset she'd be, which only reinforces the idea that this decision is important.

You glance back at the shelves full of glass bottles of different sizes. They're neatly lined up, and create a rather intimidating wall of choices that need to be made. You've been in this store for almost an hour, but have yet to make a selection. You gulp and take a tentative step toward the syrup. Maybe it won't be so hard if you get a little bit closer. Your foot brushes up against something on the floor, and you stumble back in surprise.

Unfortunately, you haven't been gifted with coordination to make up for your lack of decision making skills, so you end up falling over onto the floor.

"Ow ow ow," you moan as you rub the back of your head, which hit a moose figurine as you fell over. "What was that?"

Your eyes widen when you see the thing your foot had made contact with. A round, white object with bright blue eyes looks back at you. If you didn't know better, you'd think it's wearing glasses, but they're just lines around the thing's eyes. It also has a long curl that falls past it's face and a cute little bag shaped like a polar bear head.

"I-I'm sorry," it says in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard, which is saying something because you have a fairly quiet voice yourself.

"I-it t-t-talked," you stutter out. "P-please don't hurt-t me! I-I'm sorry I t-touched you! Please d-don't be mad!"

"I won't hurt you," the white object says. "Why would you think that?"

"I-I don't know," you admit. "I thought maybe you'd be mad or something."

"I'm not mad. I'm actually glad that you noticed me. My name is Canada Mochi, and it's very nice to meet you."

"Uh...hi. My names (y/n)," you say softly. "Um...if you don't mind...uh...what are you...exactly?"

"Well, I'm a mochi," Canada Mochi answers.

"I see." You're not really sure what that means. "What are you doing here, Canada Mochi?"

The little mochi's eyes widen. "Oh! That's right! I was here to get some maple syrup."

"Me too," you say in surprise.

"What a coincidence," Canada Mochi says with a smile. You've heard his voice enough to make a fairly confidence guess he's a boy. You're too embarrassed to actually ask him.

"Do you usually buy your syrup here?" you ask him.

"Yes. I come here often because I use a lot," the mochi says with a quiet laugh. "I like to put it on my pancakes."

"I'm trying to pick some to bring back home for my mom, but...um...well, I can't really decide," you admit sheepishly. "I don't know what's good."

Canada Mochi's eyes brighten noticeably. "I can help you with that!" he says excitedly. "I know all about maple syrup!" His voice doesn't actually get much louder, despite his obvious excitement. You find that kind of cute.

You stand up faster than you probably should have, and end up hitting your head on the moose figurine again. This causes Canada Mochi to become worried, but you smile to reassure him that you're alright.

"Don't worry about me. This happens a lot."

The two of you approach the shelves full of syrup, which is something you could hardly do on your own before. Somehow, being with the mochi is making you just a little more confident than usual. You pick up a bottle of syrup very carefully, so you don't knock over the others, and show it to Canada Mochi.

"Is this one good?"

He looks at the label and frowns. "Not unless your mom likes jalapeño flavored syrup."

"Huh?" You read the label of the random bottle you picked. Sure enough, it's jalapeño flavored. "Why do they even make this?"

"It's not bad," the mochi says. "It depends on what you put it on."

"You've tried this?" you ask him incredulously.

"Yes," Canada Mochi replies as he nods. "I've tried just about everything here."

"Wow," you say in awe. "You're a lot braver than me, Canada Mochi."

"You think so?" he asks with wide eyes. A blush creeps up his face.

"It's not that hard to do," you tell him. "I'm not even brave enough to pick which type of syrup I want."

"But you came here, right?"

The mochi's question catches you off guard. You turn to look at him, and he smiles kindly at you. It's one of the most sincere smiles you've ever seen, and you wish you could take a picture of him right here and now.

"You must be brave if you came to Canada all by yourself," he says. "Not everyone can do that."

"I guess so," you mumble. You're still not convinced.

The round mochi moves to sit right next to your foot. "You were afraid of me, but you didn't run away. I think that makes you brave too."

A smile tugs at your lips. It's nice how he keeps trying to cheer you up. "You're not that scary though," you tell him.

"That's true," Canada Mochi says with a quiet laugh.

You reach down to pick the soft mochi up, which causes him to blush again. "Help me pick out some syrup. Then we can go do something else."

"Y-you want to do something...with me?" he asks in surprise. He turns to look at you with wide, blue eyes.

Your brows knit together in confusion. "Yeah. Is...is that a problem?"

"Oh! Ah...no!" the mochi says in a very embarrassed voice. He squirms a bit in your arms. "It's just...people don't usually notice me, so I don't get invited to do things with them."

It makes you sad to think someone as nice as Canada Mochi doesn't get noticed. He's the sweetest person you've ever met. "Well, I notice you, and I'm inviting you to come with me." You smile fondly at him. "You could even come home with me if you wanted."

"R-really? You would let me do that?" He looks at you hopefully.

"I-if you want." You weren't expecting him to take you up on your offer. "Won't you miss it here?"

"Do you have maple syrup where you live?"

"Yes."

"And pancakes?"

"Of course."

"Then I'll be just fine," the mochi says with a big smile. "Let's go do something right now!"

"O-okay!" This situation is like nothing you've ever imagined. First you make a new friend, then he agrees to come home with you. You kind of like all the excitement. "Wait! Before we go..." You grab a bottle of the jalapeño flavored syrup. "Maybe I am a little braver than I thought."


	8. Austria Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

You have no doubt that, if it were possible, you would bleed musical notes if someone sliced open your wrist. Music is something that's been ingrained into your very soul. You've loved it ever since you were a child, and there are countless videos of you at a young age dancing and singing as if you were a pop star.

No one was really surprised when you applied to a university in Vienna. It was a nerve racking six months before you got accepted, but no one was very surprised by that either. You were pursuing your dream, and nothing was going to stop you.

That was a few years ago, and now you're just about done going to school for a music major. You've learned how to play just about every instrument in an orchestra, even trumpet, which you hated learning. Your specialty is piano, the very first instrument you learned how to play as a child. There are several folders in your small flat that contain different pieces you've written for the instrument. You slaved over them for hours upon hours, and now you have every one of them memorized.

Things have been going really well for you, and they get even better when you see an interesting looking poster on the doors to the university's theater. You pass it everyday on your way to your music classes, but you hadn't noticed the brightly colored poster until now. It depicts ladies in fancy dresses and men sporting coattails. The item they all have in common is a fancy mask to hide their identity.

You quickly scan the information on the paper, which happens to be in German. You've become mostly fluent during your time here in Austria, but your vocabulary is still rather limited. Things like dates and times are easy to understand, but some of the fine details evade you. You do manage to figure out the drama department is hosting a masquerade ball that's open to students.

Excitedly, you rip the poster off the door and shove it into your bag to read later. You've always liked dancing, and there's sure to be lots of classical music, which happens to be a favorite of yours. All you need now is a costume and mask. 

Later, with the help of some friends, you figure out everything the poster has to say. The ball is tonight, and costumes will be provided by the drama department, but it's first come first serve. Participants of the ball have also been asked to speak English. You were a little confused by that, but your friends said something about the ball getting funding from the English club. All you know is you won't have to concentrate though every conversation you have.

The poster wasn't very informative as to what to bring, so you decide to go as you are. Costumes are provided after all. You arrive fairly early to the university's ballroom, which is where poster had indicated this event is taking place, but the doors are closed. A sign directs you to a different room to get costumes. It's not crowded yet, so you get first dibs on whatever dress you like.

You try on several different dresses, but you finally choose a lavender colored gown that flares widely at the bottom with the help of some wire hoops. The shoulders of the dress are rather poofy, but the rest of the sleeve fits very snugly up to your wrist. It has a modest neckline that reveals enough to draw the eye, but not enough to cause every male in the room to openly stare. Gold lace is intricately sewn onto the bodice, skirt, and cuffs of the dress to give it a simple yet elegant look. Your outfit is completed by a gold mask with silver feathers that covers the area just around your eyes.

You hardly recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror, but you don't get long to admire yourself because the room has become crowded with people needing costumes. A man in a yellow mask shows you out to the ballroom, and your eyes widen behind your mask at the decorations that have been set out. 

An enormous crystal chandelier hangs from the high ceiling, and the soft lighting of the room makes it twinkle like thousands of delicate stars. Across from the door is a table with light hors d'oeuvres and all kinds of wines placed on it. You also notice statues, and pillars with flower arrangements, that have been tastefully positioned around the room. A small string quartet plays music in the far corner of next to a glossy grand piano. The piano actually catches your eye more than anything else. What you wouldn't give to play a few songs on its ivory keys. 

"May I have this dance?" a man with a crying face mask asks. 

You politely take his hand and he twirls you toward the other dancers. Beautiful music weaves through the crowd of couples around you as the man leads you in a slow waltz. The two of you make small talk until the dance ends. After the last note echoes through the ballroom, he bows to you and leaves to find another partner.

You dance with a few more men, but none of them are really all that interesting. Some of them have come for the dancing, others for the cultural aspect. One even admitted to coming just for the girls and food. You made sure to avoid his wolf mask in the crowd after that.

The temperature in the room rises as more people join in the dancing, and you take a break to catch your breath. You nibble on some cheese at the food table, and take some sips of red wine. You're not a connoisseur of wine in the least, so you just took whatever was open at the time. Luckily, it wasn't anything too weird.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight?" a smooth, male voice asks.

"Yes, everything is lovely," you say without turning to see who is speaking. Probably just someone wanting a dance.

"If only some of these uncultured brutes would leave," whoever is talking says with a huff.

"You said it," you agree when you think about the man in the wolf mask. "My name's (y/n) by the way."

"Charmed. Most people call me Austria Mochi."

You turn around to give the person an odd look, but all you see is a round object with a curly brown ahoge. He also appears to have lines around its eyes for glasses. 

"Mochi...?" you repeat slowly. "Like the Japanese food?"

"Precisely," the mochi answers.

"Um, okay then. Nice to meet you Austria Mochi."

"Likewise," he says. 

"Where's your mask?" you ask the round mochi. He looks at you oddly, so you decide to clarify. "You know, a mask. It is a masquerade ball."

"I didn't want to wear one," he explains. "Roderich tried to make me wear one, but I think they're silly. I refuse to take part." Despite his obvious distaste for masks, he still manages to sounds almost bored.

"Are you not having fun?" you ask with a slight frown on your face. You've just met him, but you don't want the mochi to be unhappy at such a lively event.

"I wouldn't say that," he responds. "I simply am here to monitor the music since a certain someone could not do it himself. I don't know why he asked me, but I thought it would be the proper thing to do to accept."

You wonder if this certain someone he's referring to is the Roderich he mentioned before, but you don't ask. "So you're in charge of music. It's very pretty. I'd say you've done a great job."

Austria Mochi looks up at you with a new sparkle in his eye. "Thank you very much. Music is my pride and joy."

"Me too!" you tell him excitedly. "I'm majoring in music."

"Is that so? How wonderful," the mochi says with a genuine smile on his face. "It's nice to meet another patron of the musical arts. There are too many people that are ignorant of the beauty of music."

"Yeah, I hear ya." You take a look around the ballroom while taking another sip of wine. Your eyes settle on the shiny grand piano, and you sigh thinking about the stunning music it could produce.

Austria Mochi notices the direction of your gaze and smiles knowingly. "I take it you play piano?"

"Yes," you reply with a slight nod. "It's my favorite, and I'm not half bad, if I do say so myself."

"Would you like to play it?"

Your eyes widen with excitement. "Can I? Are you sure?"

The mochi hops closer to you. "I don't see why not. As long as you really are as good as you say."

It takes all of your will power to contain the ecstatic squeal you can feel forming in the back of your throat. Instead, you pick up Austria Mochi and carry him over to the string quartet.

"If you don't mind, this young lady will be playing the next song," he informs the musicians, who have just finished a piece. They nod their heads in ascent. 

You gently set the white mochi down on the piano bench and sit down next to him yourself. The polished keys of the piano beckon you to place your fingers on them. You carefully set your fingers on the smooth keys as you contemplate which song to play. Several different compositions come to mind, but none of them seem right. You finally decide on a piece of your own writing, and play the first melancholy chord.

It takes a moment for you to get over your initial nervousness, but soon your fingers move gracefully over the keyboard as if they have a mind of their own. Well practiced motions weave a complex melody that floats through the ballroom as if on a light, summer breeze. Couples spin and sway in time to your musical creation, but you pay no notice to them. The only thing on your mind is the music you love so dearly.

The last few notes hang in the air for an instant before being drowned out by loud applause. You look to the crowd with surprise. In your deep musical reverie, you had forgotten there were other people there. For a while it had been you, Austria Mochi, the piano, and nothing else. You stand up to give a small curtsy, which is met by cheers to remove your mask.

Instead of taking off your gold mask, you sit down to play another piece. This one isn't one you've written yourself, but it's one you enjoy playing quite a bit. Austria Mochi watches you play with a look of wonder and contentment. He blushes when you give him a quick glance in the middle of the composition.

Another round of applause meets the end of your second piece. You politely curtsy again, but refuse to take off your mask. The quartet begins playing once more, and people eventually lose interest in you. You turn back to the mochi sitting on the piano bench with a radiant smile on your face.

"Thank you so much, Austria Mochi," you say as you slip off your mask. The round mochi blushes bright red when your eyes meet. "I'm very grateful that you let me play tonight."

"N-no, (y/n). Thank you for playing your lovely music," he says in a slightly flustered voice. "The first song was your own, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," you tell him with another grin. "I'm glad you noticed."

"It was beautiful...like you."

You lean down and plant a soft kiss just above the mochi's eyes. He turns three shades of red darker than he was before, which was already very red.

"Thank you. I need to get going now. I have classes tomorrow." You straighten back up and put your back mask on. "Hopefully I'll see you around again. I'd love to play for you some more."

"And I'd love to listen," Austria Mochi says with as much composure as he can muster, which isn't easy when he's just been kissed.

"Goodbye," you say with a wave. You hurry out the ballroom door since it's going to take a while to get out of your costume, and it's already quite late.

The whole way home your head is filled with new music to write. It's cheery and light like a masquerade ball, and somewhere in its musical depths is hidden a soft, round mochi that refuses to wear a mask.


	9. America Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movies I used aren't real. I just made them up for this story XD

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

When you think of the word "vacation" the first thing that comes to mind is not manicured lawns in front of government buildings. Washington DC was not your idea of an awesome vacation. It's not as bad as trekking across some untamed wilderness with only a backpack full of supplies and no phone service, but it's not tanning on a tropical beach either.

You follow your hyper friend around as he snaps pictures of the White House. He's not really your friend per se. You're watching him on behalf of your actual friend Arthur, who didn't want to come on this trip himself. So you're stuck looking after his cousin, or was it his brother? You don't really remember.

"Wow! This is so neat!" Peter exclaims as he takes another picture. "Arthur and the others will recognize me for sure if I know all about their capitals!"

You don't really know what he's talking about, but you go along with it anyway. "How many countries have you visited, kid?"

The bushy browed youth puts his camera down to count on his fingers. "Let's see. I went to England, France, Spain, Germany, Italy, and once I tried to go to Denmark, but that didn't go so well. I'm making a big scrapbook full of pictures from all the places I've gone."

"Oh really?" You feel a little pathetic inside. If this kid is telling the truth, then he's seen more countries than you could ever imagine seeing yourself. "Where are you from then?"

"Sealand!" he tells you excitedly. He snaps a picture of the confused look on your face before running away laughing.

"Sealand, huh," you say to yourself as you follow the hyper kid. "So he's either a big liar or he's the weirdest kid I've ever met."

You follow Peter from place to place as he takes pictures and reads all of the visitor signs. He has fun chasing pigeons around the Lincoln Memorial, and almost falls into the Reflecting Pool. You catch him by the back of his sailor outfit just before he lands face first into the water.

"What the heck are you doing?" you ask him in an exasperated tone. "If you really wanted a bath you should wait until we get back to the hotel."

"Sorry," the youngster says with a sheepish grin. "I just wanted a good picture of the tall thing back there."

"You mean the Washington Monument?"

"Yeah! That! Let's go!" He takes off for the white obelisk. All you can do is groan and follow.

You are thoroughly exhausted by the time Peter is done sightseeing. You swear you're going to make Arthur pay for this, big time. He's already paying for all the expenses of this entire "vacation", but you'll find a way to get back at him for having to babysit this bundle of energy. Perhaps by filling in the spaces between his monstrous eyebrows with a sharpie, or writing music using his eyebrows as the staff.

Walking all the way back to your hotel doesn't sound fun at all, so you get a taxi to drive you back. The ride is fairly quiet since the hyperactive youngster fell asleep as soon as he sat down. You finally get some peace and quiet, but all you really feel like doing is going to sleep too. Your eyes droop slightly, but you don't let yourself drift off. The last thing you need is for this taxi driver to drive you around for the next few hours while you're asleep and charge you a fortune for it.

Suddenly, an odd sign catches your attention. "Hey, can you take us to the closest movie theater?"

The driver looks at you momentarily from the rear view mirror. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, lady."

It takes a few more minutes, but he takes you and Peter to a big theater. You nudge the sleeping boy awake. "Hey, kid. Get up."

"Are we there already?" he asks as he rubs the sleep from his blue eyes.

"Well, kind of," you answer. It was a rather impromptu decision to come to the theater instead of your hotel. "I thought we'd do something else fun while we're out and about."

Peter notices the theater outside of his window. "The movies! Yay!" He hops out of the cab and takes off for the theater.

"Dang, that kid," you mumble as you pay the taxi driver.

"Kids," the driver says with a chuckle. "They're trouble if you're not careful."

"Yeah, you're telling me," you say as you exit the car.

Peter's already inside, so you hurry to make sure he's not getting into any kind of trouble like the cab driver warned. When you get inside you see him admiring the poster for some kid's movie. You breathe a short sigh of relief before getting in line for tickets. You're not seeing some dumb kid's movie.

"Ready to go in, kid?" you ask the blonde boy after purchasing some tickets.

"Are we going to see The Little Prince?" he asks hopefully.

"Nope," you say with a hint of a smirk. "We're going to see Haunted Sunday."

"B-but...that's a scary movie," Peter says as he goes slightly pale.

"Don't worry. It's PG-13," you say in a somewhat reassuring way. "You are 13, right?"

"Y-yeah! Of course. W-why would you even ask that?" He tries to look confident, but his wavering voice gives him away. It's also really hard to take him seriously in that sailor outfit.

"Alright, lead the way then," you say as you hand him a ticket. "It's theater 3."

The lights have already been partially dimmed, but you can still tell the theater has more people in it than you would have liked. You had figured this would happen since you saw the movie being advertised from a billboard. Other people probably saw it and stopped to see the movie too.

You steer Peter away from a shady looking group in the back. He's already trembling slightly, and you're sure that sitting by some weirdos won't help. You're afraid you won't be able to find some decently secluded seats until you spot almost an entire open row. Someone had left a bunch of popcorn bags and soda cups lying around, but other than that it looks fine.

"Let's sit here," you say quietly. The blonde boy just nods. If you knew going to a scary movie would keep him quiet, you would've done this a long time ago.

You slide down the row until you're sitting in the seat next to all of the popcorn bags. It's not ideal to sit by someone's trash, but it's the closest to the center, which is always the best place to sit. You make yourself comfortable and watch Peter sit down nervously. He looks like he might pass out, so you ruffle his hair through his sailor hat.

"Loosen up, kid. These movies aren't that scary anyway."

"T-then why d-did you want t-to come?" he stutters out. "I thought p-people came t-to get scared."

"Nah," you say with a wave of your hand. "I came here for a good laugh."

Peter looks at you with a confused look, like he's not sure whether to take you seriously or not. That's when another voice interrupts your conversation.

"Hey, dude! Do you like horror movies too?"

You turn around to look at the seat you thought was empty. Your eyes meet bright, sparkling blue ones. A blonde ahoge pokes up out of a round, white thing sitting in the chair.

"You're the one who ate all this stuff?" Of all the things you could have said, that's the thing that comes out of your mouth.

"Yup! Theater popcorn is the best, dude!" it says happily. You look around self consciously at the sound of the object's rather loud voice. "Oh, sorry," he says in a softer voice when he notices your discomfort. "I'm not so good with this whole quiet thing."

"Yeah, I've noticed," you tell him. Or at least you think it's a him. You notice little lines around his blue eyes that look like glasses before the lights start to go out.

"Ooo! It's starting!" he whispers excitedly.

You watch some boring trailers with half interest. Your mind lingers on the odd objects sitting next to you munching on popcorn. Peter seems to have calmed down a little next to you as well. The trailers are distracting him from his earlier fear of the horror film.

Then the movie starts. Everything goes fine until the first signs of paranormal activity. You can hear Peter whimper a little when something strange flickers across the screen. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. This idea is also reinforced by the odd thing next to you. He starts making little gasping noises whenever anything happens.

"Kyaaa," he says with eyes shut tight. "These movies are too scary."

"Nothing's happened," you tell him quietly.

"But it will!"

Just as he says it a horrific looking ghoul jumps on screen and starts killing people. The white thing yelps and jumps in your lap as Peter grabs your hand. Both of them scream. The blonde boy has a death grip on your hand, and the round object is promising some higher power he'll lay off the burgers if he lives.

You just snicker at the obvious special effects. These kinds of things don't phase you because they're always the same. Something tragic happens, the place is haunted, some cocky people show up thinking they can calm the spirits, they fail, they die, the end. Sometimes there's more blood involved, but you don't need a lot of blood to enjoy a horror flick. Every once in a while they'll let one of the cocky guys survive and beat the ghost with some stupid, half baked plan. You've never figured out why they didn't just start with that plan in the first place. Oh wait, that makes too much sense.

You give Peter's hand a light squeeze. "Don't worry, kid. It's not real."

He nods slightly but doesn't release your hand.

You look down at the thing in your lap. "Hey, you. White thing. Do you mind?"

"I have a name you know," the thing says with a huff. "It's America Mochi, and don't you forget it, dude."

You roll your eyes. "Enough with this dude thing. Obviously, I'm not a dude. Now would you please get off my lap?"

"Usually you tell someone your name when they tell you theirs," America Mochi says in a rather cheeky way.

You give him a glare. "Fine. I'm (y/n). Now will you please move."

Another shriek comes from the movie, and your two companions flinch from the noise. "N-no can do, dudette. I-it's too scary."

You look at the white thing incredulously. "Seriously? You came to a horror movie, by yourself, and now you're too scared?"

"Y-yup," America Mochi says in a shaky voice. "These things are my favorite. I've seen this one twice already."

Now you look at him completely dumbfounded. "You've seen this twice and you're still scared?"

"Uh huh. The part when the ghost rips off that guy's arm is the worst."

The words are barely out of his mouth before the ghost reappears to do exactly what America Mochi described.

He shudders and closes his eyes. "Gets me every time."

You feel a sudden pressure near your shoulder, and you turn to find Peter with his head against your arm. He has his eyes shut tight to keep out the carnage on the screen. You have to admit it's getting pretty gory. Even you have to look away when the ghost starts biting people's fingers, noses, and ears off. This is a little much for being only PG-13.

"Maybe we should get out of here," you suggest.

"Not yet! This is when it gets good!" America Mochi insists.

"B-by g-good do you mean m-more b-b-blood?" Peter asks in a quivering voice.

"No! The hero shows up and saves the day!"

You look back up at the screen, and sure enough, one of the cocky guys that showed up to kill the ghost has managed to exorcise it by sticking a cross in its face and mumbling some mumbo jumbo. The ghost gives one last cry of agony before shriveling up into nothing.

The three of you watch in disbelief as the credits roll.

"That's it?" Peter asks no one in particular. His earlier fright forgotten. "They just kill it and that's the end?"

"These movies are all the same," I tell him. "They spend so much money on the effects that they have some crap ending because they spent too much."

"Whoohooo!" America Mochi cheers. "It's always better the third time!"

"What are you talking about?" you ask the thing in your lap. "You were scared out of your mind! You were practically crying!"

"No, I wasn't!" he insists, but you're not listening.

Your eyes widen and you point down the aisle. "The ghost!"

"Ahhhh! No! I don't taste good! Don't eat my fingers!" America Mochi wails.

You and Peter burst out laughing. The youngster clutches his sides while you try not to drop the round thing onto the floor. He looks up at you with a bit of irritation in his eyes.

"Not cool, dudette."

"You have to admit it was funny," you say as your laughter dies down.

Peter keeps chuckling for a while, and you watch him slightly amused. This kid is starting to grow on you.

"The funny thing is you don't even have fingers," the boy tells America Mochi.

This sets of another round of laughing, America Mochi included.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he says with an embarrassed chuckle.

"We should probably get going," you say as you notice the empty theater. The credits are long over, and the lights have come back on. "I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

Peter lets out a loud yawn. "Okay. Let's go."

The two of you stand up and walk out of the row of chairs, America Mochi securely held in your arms. You manage to call a cab while the other two wait on a bench. The bushy browed kid's eyes keep sliding shut, and his head bobs occasionally. There's no doubt he'll be asleep by the time you get to the hotel.

"So where are you going?" you ask America Mochi after joining the two on the bench.

"I dunno," he replies. "Just wherever I feel like."

"Do you even have a place to stay?" you ask with concern. You're not the type to invite strangers to stay with you, but he's not exactly normal, or suspicious for that matter.

"Not really," he admits. "I just kinda hang around wherever."

"Okay, then you're coming with us," you tell him. Seems like spending time with Peter is bringing out a protective, motherly side you didn't really know you had.

"Is he really?" Peter asks in a sleepy voice.

"Yeah, kid. He is," you answer.

"Cool." The boy pulls out his camera and snaps a picture of you and America Mochi.

"One for the scrapbook," you say with a soft smile.


	10. Latvia Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything, except for what Toris says, is Latvian. Toris speaks Lithuanian, of course XD

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

You sigh unhappily at the neon letters that seem to glare at you mockingly.

Kavējas (Delayed)

The weather in the Baltics has been unpredictable lately, hence your delay in Riga. This was the first of many connection flights you have yet to make to reach your destination. You decided a while ago that you want to visit Russia, but Mother Nature seems to have other ideas for you. Now you're stuck in Latvia as a nasty storm rages outside.

You wait patiently for a while, hoping the weather would change for the better. A glance at a clock tells you it's been 20 minutes, and still no sign that the storm would let up. All this waiting is going to drive you crazy, so you get up to find something to do. You maneuver yourself, and your small rolling suitcase, through the crowd of irritated people, who are also disappointed to see their flights delayed. It's a good thing you packed light because you're having enough trouble getting around people with your carry on as it is.

A few people give you annoyed looks as you try to slide past them, but you manage make it through just fine. You spot a place selling coffee and decide that would be just the thing to get your mind off of the awful gloom outside. Luckily, the person behind the counter knows enough English to understand what you want, and you're soon met with the smell of warm, steaming coffee.

You sit in an empty seat near enough to your terminal that you'll be able to see if anything changes, but far enough away that you won't have to deal with any disgruntled people. The coffee beckons to you with its warm, earthy smell, so you take a careful sip. It leaves a slightly bitter taste in your mouth, but that's just the way coffee is. You stare out the window while taking another sip. Dark clouds roll across the sky as heavy winds howl relentlessly.

"Shoot," you murmur. There's no way this storm is blowing over any time soon.

You're about to drink more of your coffee when a quiet squeak from the seat next to you draws your attention. You look over to find a round, white object with big blue eyes trembling as if it had just seen a ghost. It's eyes flicker up to you for a moment before going back to staring straight ahead.

"Hello," you say gently. You're afraid you'll scare whatever it is more than it already appears to be.

"S-sveiki (hello)," it says. Its voice also shakes as much as its round little body.

You have no idea what this strange object could be, but you feel oddly responsible for consoling the poor thing. It looks absolutely terrified, and you want to change that. A cute little thing like that shouldn't look like it thinks it's going to be murdered any second.

"My name's (y/n). What's yours? Er...um do you speak English?"

"Y-y-yes," the little thing answers. "M-my name is...L-Latvia Mochi."

"Nice to meet you, Latvia Mochi," you say with an encouraging smile.

"Y-yes, nice t-to meet you."

"Can I ask you a bit of a personal question?" you ask.

"Um, yes. I-I think that's okay," the shaky thing says.

"What are you, exactly? I've never seen anything like you before," you tell it curiously.

"W-well, I'm a mochi," it answers.

"Mochi?"

"Yes, it's a kind of rice d-dumpling," it explains. It doesn't really make much sense to you, but you don't want to pressure Latvia Mochi into explaining further.

"And you're a boy, correct?" you ask.

"Oh! U-uh, y-yes," he replies. His shaking has calmed down a little, and he looks more comfortable that before.

"So what brings you to the airport, Latvia Mochi? Going on a trip?" you ask him jokingly. You doubt he is, but you're attempting to lighten the mood.

"No," the mochi says with the first smile you had seen yet. "I'm not going anywhere. I-I like to watch the planes c-come in. It m-makes me wonder about all the o-other places people have b-been to."

"Yeah," you agree. "I'm going to see some of those places."

"Really?" Latvia Mochi asks. His blue eyes sparkle at you with interest. "W-where are you going?"

"Russia," you tell him excitedly.

The sparkle disappears as soon as the name leaves your lips, and the little mochi starts trembling twice as hard as he was before. A look of pure terror comes over his face, and you're afraid he's going to start crying.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" you ask worriedly. You have no idea what you did, but you're regretting it, whatever it was.

"I....I...don't....c-can't!" Latvia Mochi stutters out brokenly. You have no idea what he's trying to say, but you watch as he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes some more.

Hesitantly, you put down your coffee, now completely forgotten, and reach out to pick up the little mochi. You gently cradle him in your arms as you try to calm him down.

"Shhhhh, it's okay. You don't have to worry about a thing. It's okay. It's okay."

Latvia Mochi's silent shaking lessens as you cradle him close to your heart. Eventually, he lets out a soft sigh, and his face looks calmer than you've seen so far. He opens his big blue eyes and smiles up at you.

"T-thank you," he says contently. His persistent stutter remains, but he sounds more confident than before.

"You're very welcome," you tell him with a smile. You lean down to give the little mochi a light peck above his wide eyes.

His eyes become impossibly wide, and a deep blush colors him red. "Ah....ah....ahhhh."

A small laugh escapes you as you watch Latvia Mochi's embarrassment. He's so cute that you can't help but give him a little squeeze, which only flusters him further. You're about to say something more, but a commotion from your terminal distracts you.

Sounds of outrage in multiple languages fill the air as people crowd to look at an electric bulletin board. You stand up with the mochi still in your arms. As carefully as you can, you push through the crowd to see what everyone is so upset about. You scan the flights listed on the board until you find your flight. One word glares at you in red letters.

Atcelts (cancelled).

"Oh," you say in surprise.

You make your way back out of the crowd and look out the window. The weather hasn't changed at all since the last time you checked, in fact, it seems to have gotten worse. Your enthusiasm for travel dwindles at the thought of having to make all kinds of extra arrangements now that your flight's been cancelled. You sit back down in your seat with a sigh of defeat. Things are not looking so good.

"I-is everything alright, (y/n)?" Latvia Mochi asks in concern. You had almost forgotten you're still holding him.

"My flight's been cancelled," you tell him with a strained smile. "Looks like I'll be stuck here a while."

Oddly, the mochi's eyes light up. "D-does that mean y-you can stay here with m-me?"

"Yeah, I guess so," you say with a small laugh. "At least until they'll reschedule my flight."

"Where a-are you going to stay?" he asks with a faint blush.

You smile knowingly at him. "Have any recommendations for me?" you ask with a wink.

Latvia Mochi's blush deepens at your playfulness. "I-I...ah...know a-a friend s-staying at a place n-nearb-by. I c-could see i-if we could st-tay with him-m," he says with much difficulty.

You get up out of your seat and grab hold of your carry on's handle. "Alright, tell me where we're going."

The mochi ends up leading you to a pay phone so he can make a call. After a conversation in a language you don't understand, he tells you his friend should be arriving in ten minutes. That's enough time for you to go to your airline's check in desk to get information on your luggage and when your flight has been rescheduled.

You and Latvia Mochi wait by the doors for the mochi's friend to arrive. The weather is still pretty nasty, and you feel a little guilty for making the mochi's friend drive in it to pick you up. Just as you think that, a young man with long brown hair walks into the airport and looks around until he spots you holding Latvia Mochi.

"Ten yra (there you are)!" the man says. He looks up at you and smiles. "Hello, my name is Toris and I am a friend of Latvia Mochi."

"Hi, Toris," you say. "My name's (y/n). I'm sorry to be a burden."

Toris scratches the back of his head, embarrassed by my apology. "Oh no! It's no trouble at all. I'm happy to help anyone that's a friend of little Latvia Mochi."

You notice the mochi has been fairly quiet this whole time, so you look down to find him sleeping in your arms. A smile tugs at your lips. He's so adorable, and even more so fast asleep. He has also stopped shaking now, which relieves you because you were afraid he never stops.

Toris helps you get your stuff in his little car before helping you get in yourself. You feel bad making him do all the work, but you'd feel worse if you woke up the slumbering mochi. Toris carefully pulls the car out into traffic, and glances at the two of you in the passenger seat.

"He really likes you," the young man says without a preamble. "He usually doesn't stop shaking unless he's sure he's safe, or if he's with someone he likes. With you it's probably both."

"I'm glad he stopped," you admit. "I was getting worried about it. Why does he shake so much?"

"Well..." Toris's lips press together, and his eyes darken momentarily. "He's had some...less than ideal experiences that's left him rather timid. I'm surprised he even talked to you at all."

You look down at the sleeping mochi, who's only movement is a rhythmic rise and fall as he breathes. "I'm glad he did though."


	11. Russia Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

You tug on the scarf around your neck in an effort to block more of the icy wind blowing straight into your face. You had known beforehand that the weather in Russia wasn't the warmest, but this is worse than you could have imagined, and it's not even winter.

A shiver ripples through your body as it feebly attempts to warm itself. Any body heat it creates is quickly blown away by the relentless wind. Despite the fact you're wearing a coat, the wind seems to howl right through you and chill you to the bone. You promise the deities of the elements that you'll never complain about the weather back home if the wind would just ease up, but to no avail. 

What you wouldn't give for a warm taxi right about now. You opted to walk to your destination since, a) it's not very far, and b) it's cheaper, but you're starting to regret that choice as you continue to trudge through the biting wind. Loose strands of hair whip around your face making it hard to see, which is why you almost trip over something on the sidewalk.

"Oomff!"

You stumble forward a few steps, but manage to maintain your balance. It would've been really embarrassing if anyone had been around to see that, but luckily the street is empty. Your toe throbs from being stubbed on whatever it was you got your foot caught on, and you turn around to see just what in the world it was.

You don't believe your eyes. Sitting on the sidewalk is an oddly large white object with what looks like a scarf wrapped around it. You're about to move closer when the thing turns around. It has a face. There are definitely two eyes and a nose on the object, and you don't doubt there's a mouth under the scarf either.

"Привет (hello)!" it says to you. Well, that solves the mystery of whether it has a mouth or not.

"Привет," you say back. That's about half of the Russian you know. 

"Это хорошо вне сегодня, да (it is nice out today, yes)?" the object asks.

"Um...Нет России (no Russian)," you tell it. That's the other half of your Russian speaking skills.

"English?" it asks in your native tongue. You nod. "Ah! I speak little English, so everything is alright, da?" You swear that it's smiling, even though you can't prove it without taking off its scarf.

"What are you....um...doing here...in the middle of the sidewalk?" There are about a million questions you want to ask, but this seems like a safe one to start with.

"I go home!" it tells you. Or maybe it's a boy.

"Where's that?"

"Right here." The white object turns toward a small house wedged between two large apartment buildings. It looks comically out of place compared to the buildings standing next to it. "Come! Very warm," he says as he starts moving toward the little house.

You're reluctant to follow, but it would be rude not to, right? Plus the cold is really starting to get to you, so the idea of going inside is almost irresistible. The round thing leads you to the front door of the little house and hops inside through what looks like a doggie door at the bottom. You hear a distinct click and the door swings open.

The thing you notice first is the temperature inside. The difference between it and the temperature outside is like night and day. You spot a roaring fire in a small fireplace across from the door and assume that's what's making it so nice inside. 

You quickly swing the door shut to keep all the precious heat from escaping. The house is actually rather cute. It has simple furniture that's a little bit on the small side, probably to accommodate the size of the white object. You really want to know what the thing is so you can stop referring to it as "the object" in your mind, but you decide to make a little small talk first. After all, it was nice enough to invite you into its house. The least you could do is be friendly.

"Is this all yours?"

"Da!" he answers happily. "Ivan visits sometimes, but I live here all myself."

"Who's Ivan?" you ask as you sit down in a small chair by a small table. 

"Hmmmm, Ivan...big man," the object's usually cheery demeanor changes to one of concentration as he tries to describe Ivan. "Very tall....likes vodka and подсолнухи (sunflowers). Does not fit through door well. Visits me sometimes...big coat and long шарф (scarf)."

"I see," you say. Your mental picture is of a very tall man with a big coat and scarf carrying sunflowers in one band and a bottle of vodka in his other. Without any other details it's a very strange image. "So, uh....what should I call you? Do you have a name?"

"Da! A name!" The thing hops up onto the table and lands with a rather loud thud. "I am Russia Mochi!" he tells you excitedly.

"Mochi," you murmur to yourself. He must be a mochi, but you have no clue what that is. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Russia Mochi. My name is (y/n)."

"Ah, (y/n)," the mochi repeats as if trying your name out. "Very nice. Very красивый (beautiful)."

You're not sure what he said in Russian, but it must have been something good. "Thank you," you say slightly embarrassed.

"Спасибо," he says.

"Excuse me?"

"Спасибо," he repeats. "Thank you in Russian."

"Oh," you say, finally understanding. "Okay. Спасибо, Russia Mochi."

The mochi makes a face that you can't mistake for a smiling one before hopping off the table. Another loud thud reaches your ears as he lands on the floor. You imagine he must be really heavy to make a sound like that. That would also explain why your stubbed toe is still sore.

A bottle suddenly lands on the table and is quickly followed by Russia Mochi. You can't read the label on it, but you have a hunch what the clear liquid inside could be.

"Vodka?" the mochi offers.

"Oh...um, no thank you," you say politely. You figure it's best not to show up at the art museum under the influence of alcohol.

The art museum.

"Oh, dang it!" you say as you realize what's happened. "I was on my way to the museum."

"Museum?" Russia Mochi asks with some interest. "Which?"

"The Galeyev Gallery," you answer. It would be rude to leave after the mochi's been so nice, but you do have other things to do.

"That is close. You must go now, da?" It would've been impossible to miss the disappointment in his voice.

You bite your lip, torn as to what you should do. "I....I guess I could stay. The museum won't go anywhere."

Russia Mochi brightens instantly. "Yay!" He hops up and down on the table, and you're afraid the whole thing might collapse. "Come! I have something to show you!"

You follow the round mochi from the table to an armchair near the fireplace. He hops onto the arm of the chair leaving it open for you to take a seat. After doing so, he nudges a photo album that's sitting on a small table next to the chair.

"Look! Look!" he insists excitedly. "Very lovely, da?"

You don't reply because you're blown away from the amazing pictures inside. Many of the photos are black and white, but it doesn't lessen the beauty of the images. Each photograph is of a building, or group of people, or landscape that makes you wonder how such fantastic things could exist.

"What is all of this?" you ask awestruck.

The mochi chuckles softly. "It is my city, Москва (Moscow)."

You have a snaking suspicion as to what he said, and the next picture you turn to confirms it. "This is the Kremlin, isn't it?"

"Da," Russia Mochi says in a soft voice. "Very beautiful. Much like you. Very beautiful."

Your cheeks flare with heat at the mochi's compliment. You turn the page in an effort to lessen the embarrassment. The next few images aren't as nice, or happy, as the previous have been. Many of them are of soldiers and several show hungry, dirty looking people. One photo in particular catches your eye. It depicts a large man carrying a crying child away from a burning house surrounded by armed men in uniforms.

"W-what's happening in this one," you ask hesitantly as you turn to look at Russia Mochi. 

"Ivan," the he replies. "He did not like what they did. He did not like, but he could not stop."

You look back at the picture. The man carrying the child, Ivan, looks thoroughly disgusted and ashamed, yet he's wearing the same uniform as the other men. Your heart goes out to him. You know what time period this picture was taken in without asking, and it wasn't a very bright spot in Russian history.

Russia Mochi has stopped grinning, and his eyes are finally open enough for you to see how deep and purple they are. You can also see all the pain and guilt inside of them too. This spurs you to quickly flip to the next page that has completely different pictures. These show emissaries and diplomats from around the world coming together in agreement. Including Russia.

A smile spreads across your face when you recognize the man, Ivan, in another picture. This time he's shaking hands with a somewhat uncomfortable looking man with glasses. He's doing his best to look dignified, but it's obvious that Ivan intimidates him. On the other hand, Ivan is all smiles. You look closely at the photo and can't help but think he and Russia Mochi look awfully similar.

"That American. Very annoying, but fun to laugh at," the mochi says, now with his usual cheeriness.

"I'll bet," you say in response. With his hair sticking up in the front like that you wouldn't be surprised if he got teased.

You and Russia Mochi spend time looking at the rest of the pictures in the album. Then you proceed to look at different newspaper clippings the mochi has stored in another book. You can't read any of it, but he translates as much as he can for you. It's like being in a history museum, only better.

That's when you notice the time.

"Oh no!" you exclaim. The little clock on the mantle says it's late. Too late for the museum to be open anymore. "We lost track of time."

"I'm very sorry, (y/n)," Russia Mochi says. He seems to almost deflate as he realizes that he's kept you from doing what you originally wanted to do. "It is not everyday I have a visitor. I was too excited to have you here, da?"

"It's okay," you say with a soft laugh. "Like I said, the museum isn't going anywhere. There's always tomorrow." The mochi regains his normal pep when he figures out you're not upset. "Now, tell me what this says," you say, pointing to a newspaper heading. 

"Мир для России (peace for Russia)."


	12. Romano Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not set in any specific city because Southern Italy doesn't technically have a capital.

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

You've always been a warm weather kind of girl. You love the summer and spending time under the sun. The Mediterranean seemed like the perfect place to go for vacation, so when you were offered the chance, you snapped it up in a hurry. It's a decision you're never going to regret.

Italy is a beautiful country full of rich culture and the warm weather you love. The sea breeze that sweeps over the country brings with it a slight humidity, which adds to the amazing atmosphere of the place. You wish you could never leave.

You had spent the first week of your trip in the northern half of the country. It was a week full of touring famous sites and eating lots of pasta. The people were very friendly, especially when they found out you're a tourist. You're now spending a week in the southern half of the country where the weather is a little hotter, but that's the way you like it. Unlike the northern half, the southern half of Italy has a lot of agriculture. That's why you're visiting a small farm today.

There was an advertisement in a tourist newspaper for tours around a local farm. You say farm, but it's more like an orchard than anything from the looks of it. You got a ride from a kind man with a rickety little truck, and you're just seeing the farm now for the first time. There are so many trees surrounding the sides and back of the house that it seems as if the house is some kind of intruder in this grove of trees.

You look around for a sign that someone is at the farm, but it looks really quiet. It's actually quite beautiful in its own way. Grape vines creep up the red walls of the house and are heavily laden with red grapes. You fight the urge to pick a couple as you approach the house, but in the end you grab a couple and pop them in your mouth. They won't miss a couple grapes. A couple of really good grapes.

Sweet tartness bursts in your mouth as you chew each grape slowly. You've never tasted grapes this good in your life. You pick a few more and savor them as you walk up to the front door. There's no doorbell or anything, so you knock on the door tentatively. You wait, but no one answers.

"Odd," you mumble before eating a few more grapes. You're going to have to get away from the house or you'll eat all of the grapes within your reach.

You decide to walk to the rear of the house and see if the owner is back there. A breeze ripples through the trees next to the house, and you see the branches swaying under the weight of bright yellow lemons. You tuck some stray hair behind your ear as you take a closer look at the trees surrounding the house. The ones on this side look like lemon trees, but the ones further toward the back of the house look different.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you jog over to the other trees. The fruit hanging from these trees aren't like anything you've ever seen before. They smell familiar, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"Figs?" you wonder.

You lose interest in the trees when you remember what you came back here to accomplish in the first place. A quick glance around the backyard makes it apparent the owner isn't here either. What you do find is a lovely little vegetable garden surrounded by a white picket fence. You find the gate on the fence and let yourself into the garden. There are row after row of tall tomato plants thriving in the dark, rich soil.

One plant in particular catches your eye, and you walk toward it excitedly. A very large, red, juicy looking tomato hangs precariously from a thin branch of the plant. It would be a shame if it were to fall, you tell yourself as you prepare to pick it. If the tomato is anything like the other things growing on the farm, it'll be the best tasting tomato you've ever had. Your hand reaches out to pluck the shining tomato when a loud voice scares the crap out of you.

"Hey, you! Who do you think you are?"

You turn around to see a round, white object with a curl hanging off its left side glaring at you from the entrance to the garden. Several thoughts and questions bounce around in your head, and you're not sure which to voice first.

"I-I'm sorry," you end up saying.

"Well, sorry's just not gonna cut it," the thing says. "I should call the cops on you for trespassing!"

"I'm not trespassing!" you insist. "Well, I guess I am, but I came back here because no one answered the door. I'm not a criminal or anything, honest."

"Likely story," the object huffs. "All you tourists always show up here and cause nothing but trouble. Screw the cops, I oughta kick your butt right here can now!"

Despite the fact that the thing, probably a he from the sound of his voice, is threatening you, you laugh a little at the idea. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"Just watch me," he growls as he takes a hop toward you.

"Woah, woah, woah! Wait a minute!" you say waving your hands in front of you. "I was kidding! I just came here for a tour! I don't want any trouble!"

The moment the word "tour" falls from your lips, the demeanor of the thing changes. "Oh, a tour? Why didn't you say so?" He hops out of the garden and turns around to wait for you. "Well, are you coming or aren'tcha?"

"C-coming!" you tell him. His sudden change in attitude has left you unsure of what to think. "What's your name?"

"Why's that matter?" he practically spits at you.

"Just wondering," you say quietly.

"It's Romano Mochi," he says. He looks a tad guilty for shouting at you.

"Okay. I'm (y/n)," you tell him with a smile. "How is it you speak English?"

"What's with all the questions?" Romano Mochi growls. You flinch back at his outburst, and he sighs. "When you get a lot of tourists it's good to know a lot of languages."

The mochi hops toward a vehicle that looks kind of like a golf cart without a roof that's parked on the opposite side of the house. He hops into the passenger side of the cart and stares at you.

"Are you getting in?" he asks in an annoyed voice.

"You want me to drive?"

"Does it look like I can drive?" The mochi rolls his eyes. "I assume you're not too big of an idiot and actually know how to."

"No, I can drive," you inform him as you climb into the driver's side. You swear you hear the mochi mumble something that sounds like "idiota donna (idiot woman)". You start the engine and turn to look at Romano Mochi. "Where to?"

"Follow the path," he instructs you. "It goes in a circle so you can't possibly get lost."

A dirt path winds its way through the grove of trees, and you turn the cart to drive through it. You drive for a while in silence as lemon trees gently brush you with their citrus scented leaves. A sideways glance at the mochi makes it clear to you that he's been watching you this whole time. He blushes and turns away when he notices you looking.

"So, why did you suddenly want to take me on the tour?" you ask in reference to his sudden reversal in attitude earlier. "I thought you were gonna beat me up or something," you say with a nervous laugh.

A smirk tugs at Romano Mochi's lips. "A tour means you have to pay me," he explains.

"All you want is the money? I thought maybe you like me or something," you tease.

"N-no!" the mochi shouts. "I just want to get paid. I could care less about a stupid person like you!"

"Whatever you say," you tell him with a flirty flutter of your eyelashes. This makes him blush brighter than before.

"S-stop that!" Romano Mochi sputters. "Just want the road, dang it!"

You continue to drive in silence for a while as the mochi fumes next to you. The trees change from lemon trees to something different. Olives by the look of it. You smile happily as the gentle breeze ruffles your hair slightly and brings the scent of lemon blossoms. It's actually very peaceful in the grove of trees, as long as the mochi isn't shouting at you.

"Who takes care of all this?"

"I do," Romano Mochi answers. "With some help of course."

"It must be nice," you say with a sigh.

"You think so?" The mochi looks at you quizzically.

"Yeah. Warm weather, lots of good food, delicious wine. This is the life." You give him a warm smile that matches the sun in radiance.

"I-I'm glad you like it," he says without making eye contact. He looks rather embarrassed, but his words ring with truth. "Do...do you want to stay here for a while?"

You bring the cart to a sudden stop, shocked by what the mochi just offered. "You'd let me stay here with you?"

"If you want to," Romano Mochi mumbles. He's a deep shade of red, and glances at you slightly. He sees your big grin and immediately becomes defensive. "I-it's not because I like you or anything! You'd have to pay me for it! It's purely for business."

The mochi yelps in surprise when you grab him up in a big hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" you squeal as you squeeze the life out of him. "This is going to be amazing!" You pinch his cheeks like an old woman would, and the mochi squirms in protest.

"Yeah, yeah! Just stop pinching me!" he shouts. "You're as bad as that Spanish bastard," he mumbles after you let go.

You put Romano Mochi back in his seat and put the pedal to the metal. The cart's wheels spin and kick up dust. Then it shoots off down the path with you and the mochi holding on for dear life.

"Donna pazzesca! Rallentare prima che ci uccida! (Crazy woman! Slow down before you kill us!)"


	13. Italy Mochi

When in Rome, do as the Romans do, and that's exactly how you've spent most of your time here in Italy. You've eaten enough pizza and pasta to easily last you the rest of your life, and you haven't been able to say no when offered a cannoli either.

The people have also been very friendly to you while you've been here, but not all of them speak decent English. It was difficult at first, but you think you've picked up enough Italian to get around just fine during the rest of your trip. You have over a week yet to spend in this beautiful country, and you plan on enjoying every minute of it.

Today you are visiting Juliet's Wall in Verona. There are several women there already who are writing on paper to place in or on the wall. The stone wall is covered from top to bottom in little pieces of colorful paper bearing the names of couples. Some have only names while others are letters written to Juliet. You don't have a significant other in your life, so that's why you decided to come here in the first place. If anyone can help you find someone, it would be Juliet.

You find a spot to sit by yourself to begin writing your letter. The idea that this is a little bit silly crosses your mind, but you quickly chase it away with a shake of your head. It may be silly, but that's what makes it fun. You pull out a sheet of pink paper from your bag and search for a pen in the jumbled mess inside.

"Ciao, bella ragazza (hello, pretty girl)!"

The voice startles you, and you turn to see who it belongs to. You're surprised to see a round, white object with a curl poking out of its right side smiling at you. You look around, but there's no one else nearby. Was it this thing that spoke to you?

"Stai scrivendo di Giulietta (are you writing to Juliet)?" it asks you.

You're not sure what it just said, but you recognize the name Juliet, so you choose to just nod at the round object. It smiles back at you in response.

"Veeeeeeeeeee~!" it exclaims as it hops up and down excitedly. "Sei qui per trovare l'amore (are you here to find love)?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know much Italian," you tell it. "Solo un po (just a little)."

The white object laughs, which causes it's curl to bounce. "How silly of me! I should have known you're a tourist."

"Oh, so you do speak English," you say in relief. It would have been a difficult conversation otherwise.

"Yes! I'm very good at English!" the thing says proudly. It's actually pretty cute how excited it is about this.

"What's your name, little guy?" you ask. He must be a boy since he's flirting with you. You have a pretty good sense for that kind of thing.

"I'm Italy Mochi!" he tells you. "What's your name?"

"I'm (y/n)," you tell him.

"Veeeeeee~! You're molto carina (very pretty), (y/n)," the mochi says.

You understood him this time. "Why, thank you, Italy Mochi," you say with a laugh. "You're not bad looking yourself."

"What are you going to write about?" he asks curiously.

You smile at him slightly embarrassed. "I'm writing for help finding love. Or I would be if I could find a pen."

"How about this one?" The mochi nudges a pen that is lying next to him on the ground. It must have fallen out of your bag when you were rummaging around.

"Perfect!" you exclaim. "Thanks!" You pat the top of the mochi to discover he's actually really soft. "Woah, you feel really nice!"

Italy Mochi blushes. "Sì (yes), I've been told that before."

Without thinking, you pick up the mochi and rub him against your cheek. "Mmmmmmm..." That's when you realize what you're doing. "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" You quickly put the mochi down.

"I-it's alright. I'm used to it," Italy Mochi tells you. "At least you didn't try to eat me." He looks kind of traumatized as if he's recalling the afore mentioned experience.

"People do that?" you ask him with wide eyes. That seems rather extreme to you.

"Yes!" the mochi answers looking panic stricken. "This one time a very large dog tried to take a big bite out of me! It was very scary, and Germany Mochi wasn't there to help me!" He looks as if he's about to cry.

"It's okay! There's no need to be upset," you say soothingly as you pick up the mochi. "No one's going to eat you." You gently cradle Italy Mochi until the panicked look leaves his face.

"G-grazie (thank you), (y/n)," he says in a quiet voice. "It is not easy living on your own sometimes."

You furrow your brows in concern. "You live by yourself?"

"Sì. Sometimes Germany Mochi comes to visit me, but I haven't seen him in a long time..." Italy Mochi's voice trails off sadly.

You set him down on your lap and smile gently at him. "You could always come with me."

"Really? You would let me do that?" he asks. His mood immediately brightens at the idea, and his curl bounces happily.

"Sure, if you want to," you tell him. "I get a little lonely sometimes too."

"Grazie, grazie, grazie!" the mochi says excitedly. "This will be so much fun! We can eat pizza and pasta, and I can sing you songs about Germany, and we can watch silly movies and-" At that moment his stomach decides to growl very loudly.

"Looks like someone's hungry," you say with a laugh.

Italy Mochi laughs with you. "I haven't eaten in a while," he admits to you.

"Okay, first order of business. Get some food."

"Veeeeeeeee~!" the mochi says in agreement.

You pick him up carefully and start walking toward the street. "Where to, Italy Mochi?"

Several hours later you find yourself sitting in your hotel room completely stuffed. You had been surprised by how much the mochi could pack away, and somehow you managed to eat way more than you should have at the same time. Italy Mochi is currently sleeping on your bed with a warm blanket wrapped around him. He looks so peaceful in his sleep that you have to resist the urge to take a picture. It would probably wake him up.

You groan when your stomach complains about how much food you ate. You take a mental note to never eat that much food again. It still baffles you how Italy Mochi was able to eat so much and still be fine. He's like a black hole for pasta. You curl up in the armchair you're sitting on in an attempt to get more comfortable, and as you do so, a blank sheet of pink paper catches your eye.

It's the same one from Juliet's Wall that you never ended up writing on. Slowly, you reach out to pick it up off the table next to your chair. It might not be too late to write a little something and stop by the Wall before leaving for Rome in the morning. You pick up a pen and turn back to the paper. Now you just have to write something.

Your eyes wander off the page toward Italy Mochi, who is still sleeping soundly. You lower the pen and paper before deciding against writing a letter all together. A smile spreads across your face as you think about the mochi. You don't need to ask Juliet help you find someone. That'll happen in its own due time, and while you wait, you have Italy Mochi to keep you company.

"Mmmm...pasta..." he murmurs in his sleep.

You smile at the silly mochi, who is still thinking of food in his dreams. On a whim you lean down and gently place a kiss next to his curl. "Goodnight, Italy Mochi." You turn out the light and crawl under the blankets.

"Goodnight, (y/n)," Italy Mochi whispers too quietly for you to hear as his cheeks turn pink. As pink as the sheet of unused paper on the table that brought you two together.


	14. China Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

Getting into China was probably one of the hardest things you've ever done in your entire life. It took forever to get the money for this trip, and then it took forever to get all of your paperwork squared away. Both your government, and the Chinese, made you fill out form after form after form to get your passport and visa.

But it was totally worth it.

Beijing is one of the most beautiful places you've ever laid eyes on. The architecture is one of a kind, and the culture is a mixture of new and old. The whole city feels that way. You'll be walking through the more recently built areas of the city and see modern wonders. Later, you'll be in an older district and see buildings proudly standing with an ancient air of imperialism.

Today you're walking through a market area looking for items on a list your friend gave you. You've been staying with her during your stay, and you decided the least you could do is get some groceries. You had thought it would be fun to go to an open market instead of some boring store, which is how you end up completely lost.

Every time you think you know where you are, something new appears and confirms your suspicions once more. You are definitely lost. On the bright side, you are getting your grocery shopping done. A bag made of sturdy material hanging from your arm has been steadily filling up with food as you try to figure out where you are. Some of it is from the list and some of it isn't. A couple of the vendors are just so convincing you can't say no, even though you don't understand half of what they're saying.

You finally begin to feel nervous when you take a turn that leads to a dead end. This is most definitely not where you're supposed to go. A quick pat to your front pockets reminds you that you left your cell phone back at your friend's house. You didn't think you'd need it, but it looks like you were sorely mistaken. 

A gentle breeze tugs at your clothes and hair, and also makes you cough. The air quality isn't great in Beijing. You decide to turn back and try to ask for directions. It has been something you've avoided doing because your Chinese isn't the best, but you've run out of options. You either risk being laughed at or wandering around for another hour.

You retrace your steps for a while to try to get back to the stall where you bought some bok choy. The vendor had been very nice to you, and you thought he would be the best person to for ask directions. You walk a little while longer and slowly become more panicked as you do. It shouldn't be taking this long to get back to the bok choy stall.

Suddenly, a delicious smell fills the air around you, and you turn your head to see where it's coming from. A small restaurant with an open front is situated between two seafood sellers. You take another deep breath through your nose, and the scent of cooking food makes your stomach growl loudly. You've spent so much time trying to figure out where you are that you didn't notice how hungry you are. It wouldn't hurt to stop for lunch and get directions after that. Maybe the restaurant owner will help you out.

You walk under a small canopy covered in red cloth and sit in a chair around a long front counter. Just like the outside view of the restaurant implies, it's not a very big place. There are only a few other people here and they're sitting further down than you. They give you wary looks before going back to their food. You've been getting looks like that a lot since you've arrived in China. It's probably because you're very obviously not Chinese.

"Nín hǎo! Huānyíng lái dào wǒ de cāntīng! (Hello! Welcome to my restaurant!)"

The abrupt loudness of the voice makes you jump up in surprise. You look around to see where the voice came from, but you don't see anyone other than the two people from before.

"Zhèlǐ! Kàn zhèlǐ, aru! (Down here! Look down here, aru!)"

You do as the voice says, and you're surprised to see a round object smiling widely at you from the counter. It has a long brown ponytail and dark brown eyes, which shine excitedly at the sight of another customer.

"Yǒu shé me wǒ kěyǐ bāng nǐ ma? (What can I get for you?)" it asks you.

"Uhh...Càidān...shàng de...shì shénme? (What's on the menu?)"

"Wǒ hěn gāoxìng nǐ wèn, aru! (I'm glad you asked, aru!)" the object says excitedly. It starts to list off a long list of food very quickly, and you have a tough time keeping up.

"Wǒ xiǎng lāo miàn, qǐng (I would like lo mein, please)," you tell the white object. It's the only food you understood from the list given.

"Mǎshàng lái! (Coming right up!)" it says before turning toward the kitchens behind the counter. "Lāo miàn, aru!" The thing looks back at you with a smile. "You're not from around here, correct?"

"You speak English?" you ask with wide eyes. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"Because, aru. I wanted to see how much Chinese you could speak," it says rather smugly.

You stare at it with your mouth hanging open. What the heck is this thing? "What-? Why-? What-?...Who are you?"

"My name is China Mochi, aru!" the object says in a proud voice. "I'm the owner of this restaurant."

A fist comes out of no where and lands on top of the mochi, squeezing it into the counter. "Who did you say owns this place, you little twerp?" A young man that looks uncannily like China Mochi stands behind him with a plate of noodles and glares at him as the man's fist grinds the mochi into the wooden counter. 

"Ai yah! Stop it, Yao!" China Mochi whines. "That hurts, aru!"

"Then don't make stuff up that isn't true," the man called Yao says. He looks at you and smiles pleasantly, which is a complete 180 from his irritated expression before. "Here are your noodles, aru. As the real owner of this restaurant, I hope you enjoy them." You couldn't help but notice the emphasis he put on the word "real".

"T-thank you," you tell him. The tense situation makes you rather uncomfortable.

Yao smiles before turning to go back to the kitchen. You can't help but notice the glare he shoots China Mochi as he walks away. Those two don't seem to get along very well. The mochi sighs heavily at the same time you begin to eat your lo mein.

"He's such a pain, aru," he mumbles. You assume it's a he since he and Yao looked, and sounded, so much alike.

"Why don't you two get along?" you ask after swallowing.

"We've been stuck together for the last few centuries and it's really starting to get on my nerves!" China Mochi rants. "He thinks he can boss me around because he's bigger than me, so he's always taking all of my cute things when I'm not looking, aru! He never notices how much work I do around here! Who does he think washes his precious woks after the restaurant closes? It's always me, aru!"

You just blink at the mochi in surprise. Did he say he and Yao have been together for centuries? On top of that, you weren't expecting so much malevolence to come from such a cute little thing. He must have been holding in his feelings for a very long time. You feel a little sorry for the poor thing.

"Why don't you leave then?" you ask the mochi. "If it's really that bad you should go somewhere else. Then he'll see how much he really needs you."

The mochi seems to think it over for a few moments while you work on finishing your noodles. They really are quite delicious. Not like that fake stuff they make at Chinese restaurants back where you come from. A big smile stretches China Mochi's lips, and you pause your eating to see what he has to say.

"I'm going to leave," he announces with confidence. "I'm going to leave, aru!"

"That's great! Where are you going to go?"

The mochi's smile falters. "I don't know. I haven't figured that much out yet, aru." He furrows his small brows together in concentration and his bottom lip sticks out in a thoughtful pout.

You watch him for a moment, and that's when an interesting idea pops into your mind. "You can come with me," you say.

China Mochi looks at you in surprise. A slow smile begins to take form as he processes what you just said. "Really, aru? You'd let me do that?"

"Sure, I don't see why not," you say with a shrug. "You can stay with me as long as you want." You stop talking for a moment when you remember your friend. "Well, I'd have to make sure my friend would let you stay. I'm staying with her right now"

"I'll convince your friend!" the mochi assures you. "She won't say no after she tries some of my wonton soup, aru."

You try to imagine how he manages to cook, but no logical explanation comes to you. Instead you smile at him reassuringly. "I'm sure she'd love that. You can use the ingredients I just bought."

China Mochi hops up and down excitedly, which also causes his ponytail to flail around. "This is perfect, aru! Let's go right now! You're the best, aru!" The mochi suddenly stops hopping and looks at you quizzically. "I never got your name, aru."

"My name is (y/n)," you say with a laugh. "It's very nice to meet you, China Mochi."

"(Y/n)," he breathes. "You're a wonderful person, (y/n)." You blush slightly at his compliment, but smile nonetheless. "Alright! Let's go, aru!" he exlaims.

You pick up the enthusiastic mochi with one arm and grab your bag of groceries with the other. Your empty plate sits all by its lonesome on the counter as you exit the restaurant. It's much brighter outside, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The market has gotten busier than it was before, which makes it harder for you to know where you are.

"I should probably tell you I have no idea where I am," you tell the mochi. "I was hoping you could give me directions."

"Ai yah!" China Mochi shouts. "You're not as cool as I thought you were if you get lost so easily, aru!"

A smirk tugs at your lips. "You think I'm cool?"

"A-ahhhhh....just take a left!" the mochi says as a blush appears on his cheeks.

You smile and do as he says. Somehow it doesn't matter to you if you're lost anymore. China Mochi's presence is enough to keep you from feeling too frightened. Yup, this trip is definitely worth all the hassle it took to get here.


	15. France Mochi

Paris is a city of lights and sounds. Of fun and laughter. Of fashion and glamour. Of love and desire. And that's exactly why you came to France. What's a better place to search for love than in the heart of romance itself? It's been a magical trip so far with gourmet food, elegant culture, and beautiful weather. It just couldn't get any better for you.

With one exception.

You still haven't found the man of your dreams. It's not like you've set ridiculously high standards or anything. You just want a nice guy that's fun loving, good with kids, and likes going on spontaneous adventures at the drop of a hat. He doesn't even have to be French! As long as he can speak English, you're fine.

A disappointed sigh escapes you as you think about your rather pathetic social life. You had been one of those people that was never too interested in boys until it was too late. Now you're scrambling to catch up on everything you've been missing. You also feel this twinge of loneliness in your heart that your friends could never soothe, especially when they're with their significant others.

Said twinge flares up when you see several couples walk past the small café you're sitting in. Why can't you be happy like them? You watch them enviously as they disappear from view, happy, bubbling, and laughing.

"Humph...." You rest your chin on your hand and huff. "Why can't I be happy too?"

"Why are you unhappy, ma chérie?"

The sultry voice pulls you out of your pity party, and you search around for its source. No one is standing remotely close to your small table. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. Who was talking to you just now?

"Par ici! Over here, ma chérie."

You finally locate the source of the voice, and it's definitely not what you expected. A white, round object is sitting in the chair across from you. It must have jumped up there while you were spacing out. You look at it carefully to make sure you're not seeing things. There's definitely no mistaking the bright blue eyes or the prickling looking stubble under the thing's smiling mouth.

"I couldn't help but overhear your troubles. Looks like you need a little amour et de romance (love and romance) in your life, am I right?" the object asks with a flirty wink.

"W-wha-? What are you?" you ask dumbfounded. Words cannot even express what is going on in your mind right now.

"I am what they call a mochi, some kind of dumpling. Je suis désolé (I'm sorry), but I don't know any more than that," it says apologetically.

"Are...are you a boy then?" you ask as you eye up what could be facial hair.

The thing gives off an airy laugh. "Ohhonhonhonhon! Oui, I suppose you can say I am a boy."

"So let me get this straight," you say while rubbing your temple with a slender hand. "You're some sort of talking dumpling that grows facial hair because you're a male. Do I have the right?"

"Oui."

"I've gone insane!" you say in a high voice. "I'm so desperate to find a boyfriend that I've gone insane!"

Other people in the café shoot you annoyed or worried looks, and you blush in embarrassment. It's bad enough that you think you're crazy. The last thing you need is for other people to think so too.

"I assure you, ma chérie, you are not fou (insane)," the mochi tells you. "I am very real."

"Okay, whatever you say, delusion my mind created," you say with a sigh. "Just tell me what to call you then since 'mental delusion' will probably earn me some weird looks."

"You can call me France Mochi!" He whips out a rose from seemingly nowhere. "It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma chérie."

"At least my mind gives me a handsome and well mannered delusion," you say without enthusiasm.

"You think I'm élégant (handsome)?" France Mochi says with a suggestive raise of a curved brow. "I'm flattered! May I ask what I should call such a beautiful mademoiselle such as yourself?"

A small blush creeps up your face. You shouldn't be flattered by something you're imagining, right? "S-shouldn't you already know my name seeings how you're a figment of my imagination."

The mochi's rose disappears and he loses his charming demeanor. He glares at you with a rather annoyed look. "How many times do I have to say I'm not an illusion?"

"Then prove it!" you say rather loudly. People turn to look at you again, and you squirm uncomfortably under their gaze.

A smile spreads across France Mochi's face. "Il ya plus d'une façon, je peux prouver que vous n'êtes pas fou (there is more than one way I can prove you are not crazy)," he says very suggestively. His voice is like silk and hints at things that shouldn't be spoken out loud. 

Your mouth drops open. That is probably the sexiest thing you've ever heard, and you don't even know what he said. To top it off, the mochi winks at you with one crystal blue eye.

"Oh my gosh......okay I admit it. There's no way my brain could have imagined that," you tell him.

"Well, it's about time, ma chérie!" the mochi exclaims. "Now, to move on to bigger and better things."

You can't help but hear the suggestiveness that saturates his voice like butter in French food. He can't seem to help himself from flirting. 

"Like what?" you ask in confusion.

"Like why you are here," he answers. "You are searching for amour, oui?"

"H-how do you know?"

An amused expression flits across France Mochi's face. "I overheard you having a lovely conversation with yourself, remember?"

"Oh..." You blush in embarrassment. Somehow the mochi makes you feel like a nervous, giggly schoolgirl. "W-well, why are you here?"

"For not as extravagant as a reason as yourself," he replies. "I enjoy the view."

"The view?" You look out of the café to see what he could be talking about. Lo and behold, in the distance you can see the tall metal form of the Eiffel Tower. "How did I miss that?"

"Apitoiement peut rendre une personne aveugle (pity makes a person blind)," France Mochi murmurs. "Tis a shame for one so beautiful."

"What?"

"No, it's nothing," the mochi says with a smile. "Would you like to see the Tour Eiffel, ma chérie?"

You're about to decline his offer when you change your mind. It's not everyday you're in a beautiful city with a friend by your side to laugh with. A rather suggestive friend, but it's better than no friend. You smile widely at France Mochi.

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

"Magnifique! Allow me to show you my gorgeous city, mon amour (my love)!"


	16. Spain Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

This is what you spent 5 agonizing years of learning Spanish for. Your advanced Spanish class was offered the opportunity to travel to Madrid for a week as part of the curriculum, and you didn't have to give it a second thought. Traveling to Europe has been something on your bucket list for as long as you can remember, and now your dream is coming true.

Madrid is a bustling metropolis that puts your quiet suburban town to shame ten times over. You've taken so many pictures of beautiful buildings, elegant statues, and your goofy friends that you're afraid your digital camera is going to run out of memory. Today your group is visiting the Buen Retiro Park, and already you've seen some amazing things.

"Listen up everyone!" your teacher calls. "I'm going to let you explore the park on your own. Manténgase a salvo y que no van a faltar. (Stay safe and don't get lost)"

Your friends buzz around you excitedly as you try to figure out what to see first.

"Let's go to Casón del Buen Retiro and look at paintings!"

"No, no, no! We should see the Paseo de las Estatuas!"

"Why don't we go to the Rosaleda rose garden?" you suggest. "That'll be pretty."

"No! We have to see the Palacio de Cristal first! I heard it's awesome!"

"Yeah! Okay! Sounds good!" everyone but you agrees.

You try not to look too disappointed as your friends begin their search for the Crystal Palace. It's not that you don't want to see it, but you're really anxious to see the rose garden. You overheard there is a beautiful fountain located inside of it, and you've wanted to see it ever since. Now is your chance, but your friends have other ideas.

An unhappy sigh escapes your lips as you follow behind your boisterous group. Your eyes roam up and down the path to take in the natural splendor of the park. It cheers you up a little bit that the weather is so nice and the air smells so sweet. Sweet like flowers. You turn your head to the right and you're met by the sight of hundreds of different colored rose bushes. 

You stop dead in your tracks. The rose garden is literally right there, but your friends keep walking to find the Palacio de Cristal. Time seems to stop as you weigh your decision. Either you stay with your friends or explore on your own. Technically, your teacher didn't say you couldn't explore by yourself, so there's no harm in wandering off, is there?

Without a word to your friends, you take off toward the rose garden with an excited smile on your face. This is what you really came here to see. Row after row of colorful rose bushes grow in their carefully kept beds. Some bushes have grown up over arches that span whole walkways, and others sway happily near burbling fountains.

"Wow," you breathe in wonder. You raise your camera to snap a picture.

"Muy bonito, ¿verdad? (Very nice, right)"

You spin on your heel to see who is talking to you. A nervous sweat breaks out over your palms at the thought of having to converse with a fluent Spanish speaker. You wipe them nervously on your pants when the voice comes again.

"¿Te has perdido, chica? (Are you lost, miss)"

You look down and finally pinpoint the source of the voice. It's a strange looking round object with a tomato balanced on top it. It smiles up at you in a friendly sort of way, and you can't help smiling back. This thing, whatever it is, makes you feel happy just by looking at it.

"Er...no, yo estoy aquí con mi grupo (no, I'm here with my group)," you tell it.

"¿Dónde están? (Where are they)" the thing asks curiously. Its green eyes sparkle at you, and you crouch down to get closer to it. 

"Fueron al Palacio de Cristal. Vine a ver las flores (They went to the Crystal Palace. I came to see the flowers)," you explain. You fight the urge to reach out and poke this thing. It looks really soft.

"Ah! ¡Sí! Son una maravilla! Al igual que usted, chica. (Yes! They are lovely! Just like you, miss)" the white object says with a wink.

"Oh! Gracias..." you say in embarrassment. Your cheeks flush brightly at the compliment.

"You speak very good Spanish, chica. How long have you been studying?"

"W-wha...? You speak English?" you ask in shock. This whole situation has gone from weird to weirder.

"Yup! I like talking to tourists in Spanish though. It's amusing when they don't understand. They get all panicked!" it says with a laugh.

"Who, or what, are you?"

"My name is Spain Mochi!" it tells you excitedly. "I'm a fun loving guy that likes long walks on the beach. I'm an Aquarius, blood type B, and very good with the ladies." He wiggles his eyebrows at you in a flirty manner.

You stare at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. "D-do you rehearse that?"

The mochi laughs lightheartedly. "That's for me to know, chica." He takes a few hops away from you before turning to look back. "Enough about me. You're here to see the garden, right?"

"Yeah!" you exclaim. "Can you show me around?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he says with a cheerful sparkle in his eyes. He starts to hop into the bushes while humming an unfamiliar, but upbeat tune.

"Ow!" you yelp when the thorns scrape your arms. "My name is (y/n) by the way," you inform the mochi. "Ow! Is there a better way to get around, like maybe the paths?"

"Yes, I suppose," Spain Mochi says. "But you can't see what I want to show you from the paths."

This makes you curious, so you continue to follow the happy mochi through the thorny bushes. You wish you could stop to admire the vivid blooms adorning each plant, but Spain Mochi moves too quickly for you to get more than a quick glance. He stops on occasion to make sure you're still following him. Your eyes meet more than once, and you feel a strange energy jump between the two of you. Unusual, but not unpleasant. It makes dainty butterflies flutter in your stomach.

"Here we are!" the mochi announces. 

He stops in front of an odd looking plant. It's sandwiched between two red rose bushes, and has red growths of its own, only they aren't flowers. You step forward to get a closer look and realize its a rather large tomato plant growing in the midst of the roses.

"Is that a tomato plant?" you ask in disbelief. 

"¡Si!" the mochi answers gleefully. "It's my special secret!"

"So, you grew this here all by yourself?" A feeling of admiration for Spain Mochi brings a bright smile to your face. "That's so cool!"

"Yes, I suppose you're right, chica," he says with an equally bright smile. "This plant is my pride and joy here in this park. Nothing makes me happier than showing it to people."

"Do you live in this park?" you ask him with a hint of concern. "What do you do if it rains?"

"The trees keep me dry."

"What about when it gets cold?"

"It never gets too cold in Spain," he answers.

"That's crazy," you say with a shake of your head. "Don't you get lonely?"

This question effects the mochi more than you could have expected. The happy glow that seems to constantly surround him suddenly disappears as his eyes darken. A slight frown appears on his face, and he quietly looks away.

"Sometimes," he says in a small voice. "There are days when I have no one to talk to, but having you here now makes up for that." He puts on a brave smile, but you think it's more for your benefit than his.

"You know, if you really want to-"

You're cut off by the sound of your friends' voices in the distance. It would appear they finally noticed your disappearance and have come looking for you.

"(Y/n)! Hey, (y/n)!"

"Where are you, (y/n)?"

"If you get lost, teach will be really mad and make you sit in the hotel for the rest of the week!"

"Don't say that, stupid! (Y/n)! Where did you go, (y/n)?"

You feel something nudge your foot, and you glance down to see Spain Mochi urging you to go.

"Your friends are looking for you. You should probably go," he says with a sad smile. It's enough to make your heart break.

You crouch down to look the mochi in the eyes. "I know you love this park and taking care of your plant, but would you like to come with me? I have a lot of friends that I'm sure would love to meet you."

"Really, chica?" he asks with wide eyes. "You would let me do that?"

"Yeah, sure. But only if you want to," you reply.

He looks back at his carefully cultivated tomato plant with a conflicted expression. You feel a prick of guilt when you realize the difficult choice you're forcing him to make. On one hand, he will be able to have the companionship he longs for. On the other, he'll have to leave behind his precious plant and everything he knows.

"Alright, I've made my choice." Spain Mochi's voice pulls you from your reverie. "Being in this park and taking care of my tomatoes are very important to me. I couldn't imagine leaving this place in a hundred years."

Your smile falters at his words. Maybe the mochi coming with you was hoping for too much.

"But!" he continues. "You seem to be a very special girl, (y/n), and I think if I had to leave, it would be with you."

You pick up the mochi and squeeze him tight in your excitement. "Yay! This is going to be great, I promise!"

"Si, chica. Yo sé. (I know)"


	17. Finland Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

Excitement fills you from head to toe when the site where the Astuvansalmi rock paintings are located come into view. You've spent years studying to be an archeologist, and this is the first opportunity you have to go out in the field as head archeologist. The plane ride from Helsinki to Ristiina had been nerve wracking since the plane shook so much. You were assured it would be just fine, but couldn't help but feel relieved when the plane landed. 

A short drive later, you find yourself standing in front of a large rock formation that houses the cave paintings. You bounce around excitedly as fellow archeologists unload equipment from the van you took to get here. They shoot you annoyed looks but can do nothing except carry equipment to a small temporary shelter. Being head archeologist has it's perks.

It takes almost an hour to get everything unloaded and set up. You help out here and there, but your nervous excitement keeps you from doing much more than watch impatiently. Finally, your crew is ready to go. Some of them are natives to Finland, so you have to speak to them through a translator.

"Ask them which way the cave paintings are," you instruct the translator. 

The short, mousey looking man does so, and turns back to you with an answer. "They say it's over that way." He points to an area a ways away from your base camp.

"Alright! Half of you with me, and the other half continue further down. Lumdin, you're in charge of the other group." The man you point to nods in acknowledgement.

Your group makes it's way to the place with the paintings. You're not quite there when a crevice in the rock catches your eye. It's almost not worth investigating, but your archeologist's curiosity gets the better of you.

"Tell them I want to check this out," you say to another translator. The first had gone with the other group.

He nods before conveying your message. While he does so, you get closer to the opening and judge whether you could squeeze through it or not. You assess the crack to be just big enough if you slip in feet first, so you carefully step into the cave. Your feet, then legs, then abdomen disappear into the hole. You give your team one last smile before disappearing completely.

The cave is larger on the inside than you originally imagined, but it's too dark to see much. You turn on a small, electric lantern hung around your waist, and the room immediately lights up. Colorful paintings decorate the stone walls of the cave, but they're not like anything you've seen before. They depict things that look strangely like Christmas trees and small men with little hammers in their hands.

You follow the paintings further into the cave when something unexpected comes into your line of sight. A tall door has been painted on the wall and is the most detailed thing you've ever seen. Archaic runes run along the length of the arching doorway, and you pull out a pad and pencil to copy them down. 

"Fascinating," you murmur. Your voice echoes around the stone chamber eerily.

It takes you a few minutes to copy down the runes. When you finish and out your pad away, you go back to inspecting the odd door. What is it's purpose? Why was it painted? More questions ricochet around your mind, and that's when you notice something in the very center of the door. It looks like a hand shaped depression in the stone wall.

"What in the world...?"

You slowly reach out your hand and place it in the shallow dent. It fits perfectly. Suddenly, the stone under your hand begins to light up. You close your eyes to prevent yourself from being blinded, and when you opened them, a real door stands in place of the painted one. A coldness radiates off of the door as you reach for its brass handle hesitantly.

What happens next is completely unexpected. The door flings itself open and a cold, snowy wind blasts through the threshold. You hold your arms up to protect yourself from the relentless wind, but it has hardly any effect. Nothing can be seen beyond the swirling snow in the open doorway, and you try in vain to close the door. It's stuck wide open.

Your only option is to go through. The chill of the howling wind seeps into your very bones making your joints stiff and your fingers numb. Your foot sinks up to your knees into the snow as you step through the doorway. It slams shut as soon as you're all the way through, leaving you in the middle of a snowy field with no clue where you are.

"Well, this sucks," you mumble. Your spirits sink as you look around the bleak landscape.

In the distance, a single, faint light glimmers like a beacon of hope. You start to trudge toward it hoping it's a house or something and not your eyes playing tricks on you. Violent shivers shake your whole body, and you can barely keep your legs moving. You definitely did not wear the right clothing for this.

The light grows larger and brighter the closer you get, and soon you can make out the shape of a large house. It's like nothing you've ever seen before. A large evergreen wreath is hung on the heavy wooden door, and the door posts have been painted in red and white stripes like oversized candy canes. If you weren't so cold, you would be a little more concerned about all of this. Christmas isn't for another four months.

You knock on the green door, but nothing happens. Impatient and freezing, you knock again with no luck. The cold has diffused through you so thoroughly that you can't feel the bite of the wind anymore. You need to get out of the cold now, and decide to risk coming off as rude to get inside. The door is unlocked, so you allow yourself inside without permission.

A bright, warm fire crackles in a fireplace to your left, and cheerful music fills the air from an antique gramophone in the corner. You shuffle toward the fire to warm up when you realize someone is watching you. Whoever it is clears their throat loudly, and you turn around anticipating a really angry person. Turns out you're mistaken.

"Kuka sinä olet? (Who are you?)" asks a round, white object wearing a viking hat. "Olen iso pelottava viikinki! Aion voittaa sinut, jos et vastaa! (I'm a big scary viking! I'll beat you up if you don't answer me!)"

"I-I'm s-sorry t-t-to be a-a b-bother," you apologize through chattering teeth. "I-I'm l-lost a-and I s-s-saw y-your l-light..."

The strange object looks at you strangely. It hops a but closer and examines you with big purple eyes. "Et näytä olevan paha ihminen (you don't seem to be a bad person)," it says. "Haen Joulupukki hattu (I'll get the Santa hat)."

It hops away with its viking hat bouncing precariously on top of it. You're afraid it'll fall off, but it never does. The white object makes it's way to a wooden chest and somehow manages to open it up. It jump right inside and stays there for a few moments before coming out sporting a bright red Santa hat.

"There! Much better!" it says with a smile. The thing comes back toward you with a big grin. "Welcome to the North Pole!"

"The N-North P-Pole?" you repeat in shock. "Wha-? How-?" You can't think of anything to say and just stare at the thing.

"I take it you're lost?" it asks. You nod slightly. "It's been a long time since I've had visitors. Where did you come from?"

"I-I was a-at an archeological s-site in Ristiina," you tell it.

"Oh! You must have come through the Ristiina door!" it says excitedly. "That door hasn't been used for hundreds of years!"

Your brain can't wrap around what is going on. "I'm sorry, but I'm r-really confused. C-can you explain what's g-going on? Who are you? And w-why can you speak English n-now?"

"How rude of me!" the object says with a chuckle. "My name is Finland Mochi! You got here through one of the many magical doors scattered around Scandinavia. They all lead here, the North Pole!"

"You mean like with Santa and reindeer and elves?" you ask incredulously. That stuff can't be real, can it?

"Exactly!" the mochi exclaims. "I'm one of Santa's helpers! This hat allows me to communicate in any language. It's standard apparel for anyone helping Santa."

"How is this even possible...?"

A twinkle appears in Finland Mochi's eyes. "Magic," he answers. "Yes, it's real," he says before you can doubt him. "Here, I'll show you!"

The mochi hops closer to you and stares at your jacket. You feel a little uncomfortable under his gaze, but it's not like he can do anything to you. He blinks several times, and a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Check your front pocket, he instructs. You do as he says and pull out a dainty paper flower. "Now crumple it up," he says before you can ask questions. You comply, and your eyes widen when the paper changes. A small wooden train now sits on your palm. "Okay, one more! Throw the train up into the air!"

"Are you sure?" you ask in a worried voice.

"Trust me! I've done this before," Finland Mochi replies. You just nod and do as he said. The train goes up, and a red and white stripped candy cane comes down. "A little something for you," he says happily.

"Thanks," you say as you unwrap the Christmas candy. "So, how did you do that?"

The mochi sighs in exasperation. "I told you! It's magic!"

You stick the candy cane in your mouth. "Magic isn't real," you say between licks.

"Oh really," he challenges. The mochi blinks and your candy disappears.

"Hey!" you loudly complain. Finland Mochi looks at you expectantly. "Fine," you sigh. "Magic is real."

"Much better." He blinks again and a steaming mug of cocoa appears in your hand with your unwrapped candy cane in it.

"You're spoiling me here," you tease.

The mochi blushes slightly. "I-I just thought you'd be cold after walking around outside. Nothing fights the cold like some hot chocolate!"

"Can't argue with that," you murmur as you take a sip. The drink glides smoothly down your throat and warms you with its chocolatey goodness. "This is delicious!"

"It's a special North Pole recipe," Finland Mochi tells you.

You take another sip, then smile at him apologetically. "I know I just got here, but I need to get going, Finland Mochi. My team is waiting for me."

"Oh, of course," he says with a nod. You can tell he's hiding his disappointment. "I think I might have a coat you can wear. This storm won't be letting up any time soon."

"What about the door?"

"The door to my house functions similarly," the mochi says. "Just press your hand in the middle and think of the door you're trying to go to."

You set your mug down on the mantle of the fireplace and turn to face the door. The coat the mochi mentioned hangs on the back of it. A handful of steps bring you face to face with it, and you slip it over your shoulders before examining the door. Your hand fits into a similar groove on this door as the door in the cave. An image of the archeological site in Ristiina comes to your mind, and the door glows brightly.

"Goodbye......." Finland Mochi trails off, unsure what to call you.

"(Y/n)," you tell him. "And don't look so sad. I'll be back. I have to return this coat after all."

A big smile spreads across the cute mochi's face. "Okay! I'll hold you to it, (y/n)."

You nod. "You can count on it."


	18. Romania Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

Your reasons for coming to Romania are probably not what other people have in mind when they go on vacation. Most people choose a place to go because it's warm, or fun, or has some kind of special meaning. You decided to vacation in Romania because it was an unusual place to go. You've never been a "go with the flow" kind of girl, so anything strange and one of a kind catches your interest.

The last few days you've spent in the capital city of Bucharest has been an interesting adventure to say in the least. You can't understand a word anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs, and you got lost at least three times trying to find a particular fortune teller you've been hearing about. You don't speak Romanian, but some Romanians speak a little English.

"Go home," one old man had said when you asked for directions on your first day.

"No English," said many others after that.

"Get fortune," a senile woman had said when she saw you asking around. "Find house. Very big, very purple. Find house, find fortune."

"But how do I get to my hotel?" you asked her.

"Don't know, but you must find house. Very big, very purple." After repeating her message, the woman had hobbled away without another word.

You managed to get to your hotel, but now your curiosity was peaked. That's why you decided to go looking for this big purple house today. Weird things interest you after all. Unfortunately, finding the house isn't as easy as getting lost is. You've been wandering around for the last two hours asking people about a purple house. Most of them shake their head and keep walking, and others just stare blankly at you before walking away. You're starting to get hungry and discouraged.

"What am I going to do now?" you mumble to yourself when you realize you're lost. Again. "Maybe I can call a cab or something."

You open your bag to pull out a little coin purse full of varying denominations of Romanian coins. The currency jingles as you dump out the contents of the purse into your hands. You're about to start counting when a large 50 bani coin falls out of your hand and rolls away.

"Hey! Get back here!"

You dump the other coins back into the coin purse before chasing your runaway money. The coin continues to roll down the street from you in a perfectly straight line. Somehow it manages to avoid being kicked by anyone and keeps rolling further and further away. You keep your eyes glued to the escaping coin and dodge oncoming foot traffic. The coin finally slows and falls face up in front of a large house. It seems to mock you as you bend over and pick it up.

"Where were you running off to, huh?" You look over at the house and gasp. It's the purple house. "That can't be a coincident."

The dark green door of the house seems to beckon to you with its shiny brass handle. You practically skip to the entrance and let yourself into the house. Small silver bells tinkle as the door swings open then closed. The inside of the house is dimly lit and furnished with dark colors. There really isn't much to see, and you wonder if you came to the wrong place.

"Buna ziua! Buna ziua! Vă rugăm, vin în! (Hello! Hello! Please, come in)"

The little old lady you ran into a few days back comes shuffling into the entryway. "It's you!" you exclaim.

"Ah, yes! You came, you came! Come! You must get fortune!" The woman takes your hand sweetly in her wrinkled one and leads you down a little hall. The hall splits in two, and she takes you to the right. "You wait here. He be out soon. You wait here." She shuffles out of the room she showed you to and shuts the door.

You take a seat in a cushioned chair covered in deep red velvet. Strange things decorate this room, many of which are either black or gray. A skull with red jewel eyes stares down at me from a bookshelf, and you begin to squirm uncomfortably. Suddenly, the black satin curtain in the middle of the room draws back to reveal a white, round object sitting on a black table wearing a red hat.

"Bună ziua și bun venit (hello and welcome)," it says. "Catalina tells me you are here to get your fortune told, yes?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you answer. "I just kind of ended up here."

"But that is no coincidence!" The object's red eyes sparkle with mischief. "I, the great Romania Mochi, will look into the future to read your fortune, but first!" He looks at your closed hand. "I will take that as payment."

You open your hand to reveal the 50 beni coin. "How did you know about that?"

"Anything is possible with magic," Romania Mochi says. He winks so quickly that you almost missed it. "I know many things about you, (y/n). Some things you are not even aware of."

Your jaw drops. "You know my name! That's crazy!"

The mochi smiles in a feline sort of way, and a single, pointy tooth stands out from the rest. "Many become afraid of my powers. I am glad to see you are not."

"No! This is totally cool!" you practically squeal. "Tell me more!"

"Okay. I see that you are a lover of all things unordinary. You like spicy food, cats, and the smell of lilacs. Your best memory is of bringing your cat, Buttercup, home for the first time as a child, and your worst memory is of your grandfather's funeral."

"H-how? How did you know?" Your eyes widen and an amused laugh passes through your lips.

"Magic allows me to see things that others cannot," Romania Mochi replies. "Enough talk! I will now read your fortune." He blinks and the coin in your hand disappears. "Please clear your mind, lovely, and I will look into your future."

You close your eyes and focus on just breathing. A peaceful calm comes over you, and you feel your mind slip into a trancelike state. You wonder if this is part of the reading or if it's just you spacing out.

"I have seen what is to come!" Romano Mochi shouts suddenly. "You will find much happiness during your stay here, (y/n). There will be someone you meet that makes your day very bright. Your future is very promising, my dear. Enjoy what my lovely country has to offer you, and you will find what you are looking for."

"Wow, that's a lot to take in," you tell him. "At least it's all good!"

"Yes, your future is very bright, my lovely." The mochi blinks, and something appears in your closed hand.

"What in the-?" You open it up to see a little metal keychain. The charm is shaped like the Romanian flag. "Oh, thank you, Romania Mochi."

"You're very welcome," he says with with his feline grin. "Come back anytime, my dear."

"I think I will," you tell him. "I like you, and Catalina. I'll be back again tomorrow."

The mochi's red eyes brighten noticeably. "Will you really? I would like that very much."

"Okay then, it's a date," you say with a smile. "I'll be back tomorrow."


	19. Scotland Mochi

ooOooOooOooOooOooOoo

The windswept crags, cliffs, and hills of Scotland hold a strange kind of beauty for you. Most people would say it's miserable, or dingy, or gloomy, but you think it has it's own virtues. The land is sturdy and reliable. It resists the fierce winds that batter the northern UK and thrives. This land is a fighter, just like you.

The grassy hills roll past your car windows as you drive down a country road. It's not the first time you've been here, so this road is vaguely familiar to you. You reach a crossroads and take the dirt path on the right. This road is not very long, and the ocean quickly comes into view, and the hum of the engine stops abruptly when you shut off the car. All that's left is the soft, distant sound of waves beating against the rocky cliffs.

You step out of your rental car and stretch gratefully. Driving for long periods of time is not something you particularly enjoy. A not so gentle breeze tugs at your clothing and hair, and you pull your jacket closer to yourself. You had forgotten how chilly it could get on the bluffs. Shrill cries from frightened sea fowl fill the air as you walk closer to the rocky cliffs. Grass grows right up to the edge of the drop, so you take a seat on the soft, springy greens.

"Hasn't changed one bit," you murmur happily. You love that about Scotland. It's steadfast and reliable.

The wind seems to whirl around you as if in reply to your words. It brings with it the sound of bleating sheep. This land belongs to a farmer you had briefly met once. He's an older gentleman, but very kind. You had asked him it you could come out here, and he had agreed happily.

"Some fresh air is good for ya city kids," he had said. 

Something warm nudges one of your hands, and you look over to see a fluffy little lamb trying to get your attention. It bats it's big eyes at you, which makes your heart melt. You gently pet it's downy head between the ears and laugh.

"Where's your mama, little guy?"

A loud baaing comes from behind you, and you turn to see a large ewe watching you carefully from the top of a small hill. The lamb answers his mother and prances back to her after giving you a happy look. If sheep could smile, he would have been grinning at you.

"'Ey! What ya doin' ova there, Lucy?" An odd, white object hops onto the hill next to the ewe. "Find a li'l faery or somethin' down there?" The thing spots you and widens it's green eyes. "Heh heh! Even betteh!"

You're too surprised by this sudden change in events to say anything back. The white thing hops down the hill toward you with interest in its eyes.

"What ya doin' out 'ere, lassie?"

"I-I...nothing really," you say once you get over your shock. "I like the scenery."

"Ah, ya got a good eye, lassie," it says with a playful wink. "Not many people come out 'ere, but it's mighty fine country. Yes ma'am, mighty fine."

"Who are you?" you ask curiously.

"The betteh question is who are you?"

"I'm (y/n)," you inform the object. "Now why don't you answer my question."

"You're a cheeky li'l thin' a'n't ya?" it says. "I like lasses wit' spirit. Mah name's Scotland Mochi, an' I be watchin' this 'ere sheep for ole man Griggs. He's gettin' a li'l too ol' fo' this kin'a work, ya know."

You just nod.

"So, (y/n), what brings ya t' this fine country?" he asks. "Don't get many city folk down 'ere."

"It's...difficult to explain," you tell him.

"Well, I got some time, lassie. Nothin' t' do 'cept make sure the sheep don't wander off too fah."

"Okay," you say hesitantly. It's a little embarrassing for you to talk about, especially with someone that's practically a stranger. "I came here for the first time to go to some of the festivals."

"Ah 'ear ya, lassie," the mochi says with a nod. "A real good time those festivals are."

You smile. "Yeah, they were great," you agree. "But that's not why I came back." Scotland Mochi looks at you questioningly. "It's this," you say and gesture to the windswept landscape. "I fell in love with this."

"You...really like it 'ere that much?" he asks with a voice full of wonder.

"Yes. It's like a good friend, always reliable," you say fondly. "It's beautiful, but you couldn't tell from just glancing at it."

The mochi stares at you with wide eyes. "Are...are you an angel, lassie? Did ya fall outta mah own personal heaven?"

A blush rises to your cheeks. "N-no, nothing like that."

Scotland Mochi has the most awe filled expression you've ever seen. His eyes green sparkle happily, and it makes you happy just looking at them. "I've been waitin' all mah life for a lass like you!" he says. "Ya see the land fo' what it truly is! Ya got the eyes of an angel!"

Your blush deepens. "W-why thank you."

"Would ya like t' 'ear stories o' the land, lassie?" Scotland Mochi asks with a twinkle in his eyes. "There's a deep magic in this country. The sheep know all 'bout it, an' the wind whispers 'bout it in ya ears when it blows."

"That sounds wonderful," you breathe, interest peaked. "Tell me more."

The mochi smiles widely and chuckles. "All in good time, lassie. Let's start wit' somethin' ya know. Eva 'eard o' good ole Nessie?"

"Yes, of course!" you answer. His warm voice has you captivated.

"Well, let me tell ya 'er story, lassie. She's actually a sweet li'l lass once ya get t' know 'er."

Time flies by as you listen to Scotland Mochi's fantastic stories. His tales are full of mystery, magic, fairies, love, and more. The mochi's voice surrounds you and breathes life into his stories. Colorful images flash before your eyes as each story blends into the next. You find yourself falling even harder for this craggy, misunderstood country. You've become a part of its magic.

Several sheep have settled around you and the mochi and seem to be listening to his stories, as if they understand what he's saying. It's possible they do since he's talking about the magic they know so well. His eyes convey to you a strong emotion as he finishes his last story. You can't identify what it is, but it makes your heart flutter excitedly.

"Your stories are lovely," you breathe when Scotland Mochi falls silent.

"Not as lovely as you, lassie," he says softly. "Ya really are an angel."

"Thank you," you say with a smile. Your watch beeps, and you notice the time it reads. "Oh no! I have to get going!" You look up at the mochi. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

Disappointment clouds Scotland Mochi's green eyes. "If ya must, lassie. It was a real treat talkin' t' ya. I don't get much comp'ny out 'ere, ya know."

The sad look on his face breaks your heart. "I...I'll be back tomorrow."

"Ya will?" He brightens almost instantly. "You 'ave no idea 'ow much that means t' me, lassie."

"I'll definitely come back," you promise. On a whim, you lean over and kiss the mochi. This causes a bright red blush to appear all over his face. "Goodbye, Scotland Mochi."

He's too flustered to say anything to you as you get up. You wave to him before walking away, stepping over sheep as you go. He follows you with his eyes, and you're about to get in your car when he calls out to you.

"G'bye, (y/n)!" he shouts. You wave one last time and slip into the car. "(Y/n)...what an angel," he murmurs to himself as you slowly drive away. "If ah didn' know bettah, I'd say I'm in love."


	20. Sweden Mochi

Your vacation has been a relaxing and uneventful one since you've arrived in Stockholm. The whole city area is actually several different islands that each provide their own unique charm. You enjoy taking a small ferry to different islands and spending the day doing nothing but taking it easy. After living a hectic and busy life, this vacation is just what the doctor ordered.

Today you're visiting a smaller island with an older, historic feel. The small village makes you think of vikings and sea adventure with its vast amount of traditional Scandinavian architecture. You stop at a little tourist shop to see what kind of little knick knacks they have for sale. Brass bells clink loudly when you open the door, and an older, plump woman looks up from a counter.

"Välkommen (welcome)," she says with a big smile.

"Tack (thanks)," you say back. That's pretty much all the Swedish you know.

"Kan jag hjälpa dig att hitta något? (Can I help you find anything?)" she asks pleasantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't speak Swedish," you sheepishly admit.

"No worry," the woman says with a wave of her pudgy hand. "I speak little English."

"That's a relief." You've run into too many people so far that didn't speak a word of English.

"What look for?" she asks again.

"Um...well." You hadn't really thought about it. "I...uh...don't really know."

The plump woman laughs heartily. "That is fine! Go! Look around." She waves you away with a flick of her wrist.

You browse through her selection of trinkets and other miscellaneous items, but nothing looks especially appealing. It would be weird not to get anything though since you have already spent so much time here. You'd also feel guilty after the woman was so nice to you. A little glass bauble catches your eye. It looks like a small dog, and you pick it up carefully.

"How much is this?" you ask the woman. You set the glass dog on the counter in front of her. 

She looks at it carefully and nods. "Twenty krona." You produce a worn wallet from a small bag at your side and pull out the right amount of money. The woman counts it and puts it in a box under the counter. "Thank you very much! Come again!"

You're about to leave when a thought pops into your head. It's something that's been bothering you since you arrived in Sweden. "Do you know if there's a furniture store around here?"

The woman thinks for a few moments before answering. "Yes, down street. Down street on left, small house."

"Thank you very much!" you say happily.

The brass bells ring again as you walk out the door. You immediately head down the street and keep your eyes open for a small building on the left. It takes you a minute, but you eventually find the house you're looking for. You're not sure what to expect when you open the door, and hesitate a moment before going in. Is it stereotypical for you to be looking for Swedish furniture?

You shake your head and grip the door handle. It's not like you're going to buy any furniture. You just want to see what the big fuss over Swedish furniture is about, that's all. Nothing happens when you pull the door open, and you silently slip inside. The inside of the store is well lit and very tidy. It's obvious to you that everything has been meticulously cleaned and well kept. The place is perfectly organized for maximum use of the amount of space inside. 

There isn't anyone at the front counter, so you decide to look around and see if they're somewhere else in the store. You head over to an area with several large armoires and can't help but admire how intricate the detailing is. Their smooth wood shines in the light, and you gently run your hand along the grain of a dark mahogany piece.

"Ehrm."

You spin around to see a round, white object glaring at you with blue eyes from the floor. It has lines around its eyes that look like a pair of glasses, and it only seems to intensify its gaze.

"Rör ej (do not touch)," it says in a surprisingly deep voice.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't speak Swedish." The thing's gaze has you very flustered.

It continues to stare unflinchingly at you. You're starting to wonder if it doesn't understand English. "Do not touch."

You quickly take your hand off the dark armoire. "I'm sorry."

"Mmm." It turns away and hops off without another word.

"H-hey, wait!" you call after the mysterious object. "What are you?"

The thing stops moving and whirls around quite suddenly. "Sweden Mochi," he says with a stiff nod. "Pleasure to meet you." He stares at you as if waiting for you to say something in return.

"Oh! Uh, I'm (y/n)," you tell him.

"Mmm." With that he faces the other way and continues hopping away.

"Wait!" You go after the mochi. "Where are you going?"

"The desk," he replies without stopping.

You follow Sweden Mochi to a big wooden desk next to some bookshelves. He hops right onto its broad surface and begins jumping up and down on it rather vigorously. The poor desk wobbles precariously under his weight.

"Stop, stop, stop," you say as you frantically wave your hands. "You'll ruin the desk!"

"Mmm," he grunts. "Not level."

"Huh?"

"Not level," the mochi repeats. He leans a little to the right, and the whole desk tips ever so slightly.

"Oooh." You nod in understanding. "What are you doing to do?"

"Fix it," he says simply. 

Sweden Mochi jumps off the desk and inspects all of the legs. He does something to each of the three long legs so quickly that you can't tell what it is, but a little hunk of wood goes flying off the bottom every time. The mochi hops back up onto the desk, and it no longer wobbles when he moves across it.

"Wow," you breathe. "How do you do that?"

"Magic."

"Really?"

"No."

You furrow your brows at the monotonous mochi. Is he trying to be short with you? You're about to say something, but he beats you to it.

"That was a joke," he says with a straight face.

It takes a while for you to process his words, but you laugh loudly once you do. "You're too difficult to read Sweden Mochi! It's hard to tell if you're being serious or not!"

He just grunts.

"So, where do you get all of this furniture?" you ask when your laughter dies away. "It's all beautifully made."

"I make it," the mochi answers.

You look at him in surprise. "For real? You make those giant things over there?"

His blue eyes follow the direction if your finger to some large wooden chests with iron trim. They look super heavy and not easy to make.

"Yes, I made them," he says in his deep voice. "Those are easy."

"Easy?" You stare at him in disbelief. "What's hard to make?"

Sweden Mochi just looks at you with his blue eyes, and you begin to feel a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. He finally looks away at the furniture filling the store. It takes about a minute for him to think over your question.

"Nothing. It's all easy."

You find that hard to believe after seeing the detail put into the armoires and many other pieces of furniture. It must take the mochi days to make some of this stuff. You absentmindedly pull out your little glass dog and fiddle around with it while you look at the different furniture in the store.

Sweden Mochi notices the item in your hand. "What is it?"

"What is-? Oh, this?" You place the animal figurine on the desk next to him. "I bought it at a shop up the road."

He glares at the glass object for quite a while, but his gaze eventually moves back up at you. "What is its name?"

"A name?" You hadn't really thought about naming the dog. "It doesn't have one."

"It needs a name," Sweden Mochi insists.

"Well...I guess I'll call it...Henriella." You're rather proud of the name you came up with off the cuff.

"That's awful," he says without emotion.

You're about to protest when you notice a small smile tugging at the mochi's lips. It's the first time you've seen him show any kind of emotion. The annoyance at his statement fades away as a smile appears on your face as well.

"It's not that bad."

"It's awful," he repeats. "You..." The rest of the sentence doesn't come out.

"I, what?" you ask curiously.

"...remind me of...a certain Finnish boy..." The smile widens on his face.

"Oh." A hint of relief colors your voice. You were afraid he was going to say something bad.

"He is not...good with furniture." Sweden Mochi's eyes darken slightly as if remembering an unpleasant past experience.

"Well, he must have good furniture if he's Finnish," you say in amusement. "I don't have anything at home like this."

His blue eyes widen almost imperceptibly, but it changes his whole face. The mochi almost appears surprised. "Nothing?" he asks.

"Well, I have furniture," you clarify. "It's just not nice like this."

He seems to ponder over that for a while. His expression becomes set in its usual blank kind of look, but his eyes convey something else. "I will go with you."

"W-what?" You're not sure what he means by that. "You'll go with me where?"

"Your home," Sweden Mochi says. "Your lack of quality furniture..."

"What about it?"

"It's disturbing," he finishes.

"Oh, gee thanks." You don't try to restrain your sarcasm, but then again, the mochi isn't trying to be very delicate either.

"Let us go." He hops down from the desk and move toward the door. "Now."

His rumbling voice doesn't leave much room to argue, so you follow him out the door. Your glass dog stands on the desk completely forgotten, but it's not the end of the world. There's a much better souvenir leading you down the street after all.


	21. Greece Mochi

The cool evening air gently brushes past you, and you wonder if one of the Anemoi are playing with your hair as they rush away. You wonder about Greek gods of the wind as you sit in some ancient ruins you had happened upon in Athens. Everything around you seems to remind you to ancient mythology. 

The large Parthenon seems to glow white in the distance. You had been exploring the fascinating expanse of the Acropolis when a small, indistinct trail had caught your eye. It led somewhere you hadn't seen yet, so you decide to follow it. That's how you ended up sitting on some dusty ruins watching Apollo's fiery chariot sink past the darkening horizon to make way for Artemis's silver one.

Another breeze blows by you, and you wonder what it would be like to be an aurai, a nymph of the wind. It would be fun to whisper words in people's ears without being seen, then watching their confused expressions as they try to pinpoint where the sound came from. Your mind begins to wander off, and you almost don't notice something soft brushing up against your bare legs. A soft mew sounds from your feet, so you look down to see a gray cat staring up at you with bright yellow eyes.

"Awww, hey there, little guy." You reach down toward the fluffy cat. "Where did you come from, huh?"

It lets you carefully pick it up off the ground and set it in your lap. A low purring comes from the cat as you scratch it behind the ears, but it's eyes seem to be keen and alert as if it's waiting for something to happen. Sure enough, a few minutes later, something else joins your quiet sanctuary in the ruins.

"Nekogoro, πού πήγες? (Nekogoro, where did you go?)"

A strange looking white object hops it's way over to the carved stone you're sitting on. The thing has a lot of curly dark brown hair, which appears to look like cat ears, and has a distinct double hair curl poking up out of the top. It's green eyes look up at you with a sleepy expression, but they widen a bit at the sight of the cat in your lap.

"Γεια σας. Αυτή είναι η γάτα μου (Hello. That is my cat.)" it says.

"I'm sorry...uh...I don't speak Greek," you tell it apologetically.

The thing stares at you blankly. "Αυτή είναι η γάτα μου (That is my cat)," it repeats. 

"I'm sorry, I only speak English."

It sighs. "How sad. Do you speak Japanese? Konichiwa, watashi wa Nekokichi-san desu. Anata wa Nekohana-san desu ka?"

"No, I don't speak that either," you say growing increasingly weirded out.

"Oh," is all that it says in return. The two of you sit in the moonlight in silence for a little while. "Do you like these ruins? I helped dig them up."

"Yes!" you answer, excited to have something normal to talk about. "They're amazing! I could sit here and look at this kind of stuff all day."

"I do that sometimes," the object says. "Usually I sleep too, or imagine what it would be like to be a cat. I think it would be fun to be a cat, don't you?"

"Uh, sure." Things have definitely become weird again. "So, what's your name?" you ask in an attempt to steer the conversation back into the realm of normality.

"My name?" It thinks for a while. "People call me Greece Mochi."

"Oh, I see-"

"My cats call me Nekogara, or sometimes they call me Nekopoko. I don't like that one so much."

"Uh..." You don't know how to respond to that. "Well, my name is (y/n). It's nice to meet you, Greece Mochi."

"Hmmmm, (y/n)." The mochi seems to ponder over your name. "It's not as nice as Nekoichi, but I might name my next cat that."

"I'm glad you like it," you say, taking it as a compliment. You scratch the gray cat's ears some more. "Are you a boy, Greece Mochi? You definitely sound like one."

The mochi stays silent for a long time. "Yes, I suppose you could say that I am," he says after a while.

You sit on the cold stones of the ruins and contemplate what has happened to you so far. No one is going to believe you when you tell them you met this talking whatever a mochi is. Maybe it's a mythical being. You'll have to look it up later.

"Have you heard the story of Narcissus?" Greece Mochi asks suddenly.

"I think so," you answer. "That's the one about a boy that stares at himself in a pond, right?"

"Yes. He was a very handsome young man that saw his own reflection in a pool of water and fell in love with himself," he recalls. "He eventually died and became a flower. You would call it a daffodil."

"Wow, that's kind of sad," you say. You feel a little sorry for Narcissus, even if he does sound like a bit of a loser.

"No, I think it's funny," the mochi says without a hint of humor in his voice.

"Oh..." You're so confused by what goes on in Greece Mochi's mind. 

"Would you like to know why I told you that story?"

"Sure," you answer curiously.

"It's because you're pretty like Narcissus," he explains. "But I don't want you to turn into a flower."

A deep blush creeps up onto your cheeks. You're glad it's dark out, so hopefully the mochi won't notice. Being called pretty was the last thing you expected to hear from him.

"I bet you'd make even Aphrodite jealous of your looks," he continues.

"Shhhhh!" You put a finger up to your lips. "Don't say that or she might hear and turn me into something worse than a flower!" Your sudden outburst scares the gray cat off of your lap.

"Maybe you're right." A soft, hardly visible smile appears on Greece Mochi's lips, which lights up his whole face. "Nekogoro, where are you going?"

The cat in question is quickly padding away with its tail swishing high in the air. It turns around once to stare at you with its yellow eyes, then continues on it's way, away from the ruins.

"Are you going after your cat?" you ask the mochi. Disappointment colors your voice. You were starting to enjoy his company.

"Yes," he replies with a small nod. He turns his brilliant green eyes toward you intently. "I'll be here tomorrow if you want to talk some more. (Y/n) might not be a very interesting name, but I think you are a very interesting person."

"Oh...thank you, Greece Mochi," you say in embarrassment. "I'd like to talk some more, if you don't mind. I would love to hear more of your stories."

"Okay," the mochi says with a yawn. "I'll probably be sleeping. These ruins are great for napping." He turns and starts to hop away after his cat.

You watch the mochi go until he's swallowed by the darkness. A third soft wind blows some of your hair around playfully and makes a whooshing sound as it goes. It carries a faint sound through the air, like a low meowing made by a certain mochi. You can't help but wonder if cats aren't the only thing Greece Mochi talks to.


	22. Denmark Mochi

Going to high school in Denmark was not something you particularly wanted to do, but you didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. Your father got a prestigious job here in Copenhagen, so the whole family moved to stay together. It's been rough, especially since you hardly speak the language, but you have survived nonetheless.

The biggest roadblock you've run into which has kept you from beginning to enjoy yourself here is your lack of friends. You think you're being friendly and nice, but the other kids laugh at you behind your back. It's become such a common occurrence that you don't even notice it anymore. Maybe it's because you don't speak Danish or that you're quiet. Honestly, you don't really know.

That's why you had been so adamant against going to the homecoming dance your school is throwing. They don't really celebrate homecoming here since they don't have football teams or anything, but they threw the dance anyway. Apparently it's your school's attempt to be cultured and "try something American". Whatever the reason for the dance, you still didn't want to go.

"It'll be fun. You'll see," your mother had said. "Just relax and let loose a little."

If letting loose means showing off your dancing, your mother obviously has never seen you dance. It looks like someone having an awkward seizure while standing, and not even to the beat. You sigh unhappily as you watch your classmates dance to the latest top hits on the radio. The only comfort is that half of the songs are in English, so you can pick up bits and pieces if you listen hard enough. Only three more hours to go.

A group of excited teenage girls wearing too much makeup and dresses that don't cover enough hurry past you and bump the chair you're sitting on. They don't even bother to stop and apologize.

"Thanks for noticing," you murmur to yourself. At least they're not laughing.

"Hey! Skal vi danse? (Hey! Want to dance?)" You ignore the voice. There's no way that it's talking to you. "Hallo? Skal vi danse? (Hello? Want to dance?)"

With furrowed brows, you look up at the table next to you to see a strange object looking back at you. It's white and round with three distinct spikes coming up out of the top of it. A little hat is set next to the spikes, and blue eyes shine excitedly at you while it waits for an answer.

"Oh...um, I'm sorry. I don't speak Danish very well..." you explain in a soft voice.

"Well, why didn't you say so!" the thing exclaims. "I speak English like a pro!" It smiles widely at you. "I wanted to know if you want to dance!"

"Oh!" That's not what you were expecting. "I don't know. I'm not a very good dancer..."

"That doesn't matter!" it argues. "It's all about having fun! Who cares whether you look good or not...even though looking good is important."

"Well...uh." You're not sure how to phrase your next rebuttal. "How would we dance if you...you know...have no..." you say as you use your hand to gesture to its obvious lack of arms and legs.

"What? Oh that..." The thing laughs boisterously. "I guess I forgot about that, hahahahahaha!"

"What an odd thing to forget...having no arms and legs..."

"What was that?"

"No! Nothing! It was nothing!" you insist. It would be embarrassing if he heard you.

"Okay, whatever you say." It looks at you with a mischievous glint in its eyes. "You're cute when you blush."

You inhale sharply in surprise. This was unexpected too. "Uh...uh...t-thank you..." You can feel your blush deepening.

"Don't mention it. I'm Denmark Mochi by the way. Looks like we'll be hanging out a lot tonight since I can't dance," he jokes.

"Oh, right," you say with a small smile. "I'm (y/n). It's nice to meet you, Denmark Mochi." The mochi smiles at your use of its name. "Um...c-can I ask you a q-question?"

"Sounds like you already did."

"Well...ah...er..." Denmark Mochi's banter flusters you enough to make you forget your question.

"Hahahaha, go ahead and ask your question," it encourages. 

You take a second to gather your thoughts and calm your frayed nerves. "I-I was wondering whether you're...um...a boy...b-b-because you sound like one, and I just thought..." Your voice trails off and is lost in the noise of the dance. 

The mochi doesn't respond for a long time. You're almost afraid you offended the round thing. "You want to know if I'm a boy?"

"Uh, yes. I'm sorry if that's a weird question. You don't have to an-"

"Hahahahahaha!" The loud laugh rings around the large room. "Of course I'm a boy! I wouldn't ask you to dance if I wasn't!" he answers with a big grin.

Red colors you cheeks once more. "T-that's true..." You can't believe you didn't think of that.

"You know what, (y/n)?"

"Hmmm?" you reply without thinking.

"You're a cool person, you know that?"

You look up in surprise. Denmark Mochi never ceases to amaze you with his words. "Y-you really think so?"

"Yeah!" he insists. "You're one of the only people that put up with me." A sad look comes over the mochi's face, which he quickly hides behind a smile. "Yeah, I didn't think I'd find anyone to talk to tonight."

"Me too," you find yourself admitting.

"For real?"

"Yeah," you confirm with a nod. "My mom made me come, but I kinda didn't want to."

The mochi's smile widens. "Seems like fate that we met, huh?" He winks playfully.

"Oh! Um...yes..." You decide to try something a little daring for someone like you. "C-could you come a little closer, Denmark Mochi?"

"Yeah, sure thing." He hops closer to you. "What is-"

The mochi's blue eyes go wide as you lean down and kiss him right by his little hat. It's his turn to be surprised by you, and all he can do is stare with an open mouth.

"T-thank you for talking with me," you mumble shyly.

Denmark Mochi recovers enough to smile goofily. "You're welcome, (y/n). Would you be up for that dance now?"

"H-how would we do that?" you ask in confusion. You still don't see how that would be possible since the mochi has no limbs to speak of.

"You can just carry me!" he replies excitedly. "I'll let you hold me as tight as you want as long as there's no more smooching without warning!"

You're shocked at first, but soon a warm smile spreads across your face. "Alright, I think I can manage that."


	23. Germania Mochi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one of the series. Thank you to everyone for reading and giving kudoses :)

There's nothing like getting in a saddle to make all of your stress and problems melt away. Horseback riding has been something you've been doing since you were just a little kid, and it's something you're really good at. It doesn't matter so much that you're not great at algebra, or that biology isn't your forte. As long as you have horses, you'll be happy.

This talent of yours is what lead you to end up working at a horse ranch on weekends, and it's been the best job you could have asked for. You spend hours feeding, grooming, petting, and riding horses. You've gotten to know each horse on the ranch and their unique personality.

The ranch is where you find yourself today, and you're currently leading a dark gray mare back to her stall after a quick little romp. She nuzzles you playfully as the two of you enter the large barn where the other horses are kept.

"Yeah, yeah, Bluebell. I'd love to stay with you longer, but there are other horses than need exercise too you know."

The horse just snorts at your comment and follows you obediently into her stall. You take the saddle of the mare's back and set it aside to put away later. The rest of her gear comes off easily as well, and you hang it on the special hooks made just for the different riding items. You gather the leather saddle up in your arms and exit the stall to put it away.

After finishing your chore, you walk back to give Bluebell a thorough grooming. You're surprised to see an odd white object sitting on the stall door. It definitely wasn't there when you left, and you wonder if one of the other stable hands had put it there while you were gone. You shrug away the thought and reach out to move whatever it is.

The last thing you were expecting was for the thing to grunt at you. Yes, grunt. You quickly move your hand away as the thing turns to glare at you with narrowed blue eyes. A thin blonde braid hangs down its side and threatens to fall into its eyes, but somehow doesn't.

"Who- What are you?" you ask curiously.

"Hmph," it grunts and turns around.

You're too stunned to react at first, but it's rudeness ticks you off. "Hey! I asked you a question!"

It looks back at you again with those intense blue eyes. You're almost intimidated by them, but you remind yourself that you're at least ten times bigger than it. "Germania Mochi," he rumbles in a low voice.

"So you can talk," you say in amazement.

"Ehmm." The mochi turns away from you once more.

"You're not a talkative one, are you?"

"Conversation is pointless," he answers. "Action is what matters."

"Not a very positive one either..."

"You talk far too much, just like that rambling fool. Always going on and on about women and food. It gives me a headache just thinking about it."

You have no idea what he's going on about, but it seems to make him pretty upset to think about. "Look, I need to finish with Bluebell here, so if you don't mind, I'm going to open the door."

The stall door swings open with a slight squeak, and the mochi teeters at the unexpected movement. He loses his balance and falls into your open arms. "H-hermph," Germania Mochi grunts as a blush covers his scowling face.

"I'll take that as a thank you," you say as you carefully set him on a sturdy ledge. You reach for the brushes on a different shelf to begin grooming the gray mare.

The only sound for a long time is the soft swoosh of the brush smoothing the horse's hair. You almost forget about the scowling mochi as you become more and more absorbed in your task. This and riding are your favorite part of being with horses. There's something comforting about knowing that such a strong animal relies on someone like you to stay healthy.

"They're wonderful creatures."

"What?" You look up at Germania Mochi, who is watching you closely.

"Horses," he clarifies. "Loyal and true. Can't go wrong with a horse."

"Really?" you say with a smile as you go back to brushing the gray mare. "I'll have you know Bluebell here can be quite the prankster sometimes. She gives me a lot of trouble."

"I never said they were easily managed," he shoots back with an air of lightheartedness. It's the most relaxed you've seen the mochi yet.

"There's more truth to that than you know," you mumble under your breath. 

The horse's coat gleams in the dim light of the stall, and you run your hand down her silky neck. She snorts appreciatively and nudges your hand with her wide nose. You pet her long face with a soft laugh make quiet cooing noises. The mare rolls her eyes but doesn't object. You continue this for a while without realizing that Germania Mochi is watching you very intently. A faint smile tugs on the corner of his lips, but he quickly hides it.

"Alright, let's go," you say once you're done giving Bluebell attention. You turn to the mochi and take him down from the ledge.

"W-what? Where are we going?" he asks gruffly.

"There are other horses to take care of," you explain. "You're better company than the horses, for the most part, so you're coming with me."

You continue toward a different stall with Germania Mochi snuggled in you arms. It takes you a minute to realize he didn't reply with his usual grunt, and you look down to see what could be the matter. The thing that catches your eye most is the deep red blush that colors the mochi's cheeks. You can't help but smile at that.


End file.
